Breakdown
by ArmedWithMyComputer
Summary: If a horrific car accident wasn't enough bad luck for the Winchesters, Child Protection Services just have to get involved as well... Will the hunters find a way to make it back from this? Sam - 12, Dean - 16, rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! Thanks so much for clicking on this story :) This is my first Supernatural fanfiction, but I've been reading them for a while now, so I hope this lives up to people's standards...**

**Sam – 12, Dean – 16.**

**Hope you enjoy the first chapter!**

They were arguing about the music when it happened. Sam, sitting in the backseat of the Impala was yelling loudly at his brother, who was smirking back at him from the front seat. "_Dean_... Turn it down! I'm trying to study." The books that were carefully laid out on the backseat were mixed in with carefully formulated notes that the twelve year old had painstakingly written out. Music was blaring out from the radio, making it impossible for the young boy to concentrate on his work.

"Dude, for the last time, you just _can't_ turn Metallica down! It's like a sin to even think about it, and besides, you're not even in school at the moment, so just chill..." Dean was shouting back, a playful smile on his sixteen year old face, his hand inching towards the volume button to turn it up even louder.

"_Dad_!" Sam whined, his hair flopping into his eyes as he kicked his father's seat. John Winchester only gave his eldest son a disapproving look, concentrating on the road as his boys fought.

Seeing that he was getting nowhere, Sam sighed dramatically, and turned back to his book. A glance back at his brother told Dean that Sam was about to enter into one of his famous moods, and he laughed in triumph. "Screw you, Dean..." The words only made the teenager laugh even harder, his eyes full of mischief and amusement. It was just so easy to wind Sammy up...

That's when it happened. Just as Dean reached for the radio intending to put his brother out of his misery and turn the music down, only slightly though, a huge force smashed into the side of the 1967 black muscle car.

Its passengers were thrown roughly to the sides of the car, as a massive lorry impacted with the car, having lost control on the slippery road seconds before. The Impala was pushed off the road and into the shallow ditch that ran alongside the road, flipping on its side and rolling over before it came to a complete stop. Others cars that had witnessed the horrific crash were already skidding to a stop, people flinging open their car doors and running over.

A hysteric woman was the first to call an ambulance as she watched other strangers run to both the truck, and the car with the family in it. Her hands were shaking as she relayed information to the operator, and she felt as if she was going to be sick as two young men tried to pry open a door of the classic black car.

Meanwhile, Dean was coming around slowly, disoriented by the alarming number of panicked voices around him. The last thing he remembered was... _Crap! What the—_He then realised that he was still in the Impala, and that the red liquid dripping onto his hands must be blood. The dazed hunter tried to move, tried to see if Sammy or his dad was okay, but the pain coursing through him was intense, and overwhelming.

A moan escaped from his lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open as a stranger appeared in his fading vision. "Kid, hey, can you hear me? Everything's going to be okay, an ambulance is on its way... Can you hear me? I need you to stay awake for me, kid, okay? What's your name?" The man struggled to keep the injured boy's attention, looking into his distressed and pain filled eyes.

"S-S'mmy... S'm..." Dean managed to choke out, still trying to twist in his seat and see his brother. The man exchanged a confused look with the other bystanders who had stopped, before focusing on the teenager again.

"Sam? Is that your name? You're going to be fine, Sammy, I promise." Dean tried to shake his head and tell the guy that _no, his name was not Sammy, that he was Dean_, but his eyes were slipping closed again, and the colour was fading out of his vision. "Stay with me, Sammy, you hear me? Stay awake!" But the battle was lost, and Dean fell into unconsciousness again.

Two ambulances arrived a few minutes later, paramedics were jumping out before the vehicles had stopped, and grabbing large bags full of medical equipment. The door had been eased off the Impala already, and the paramedics started working on getting the passengers out safely. John was the first to be extracted from the crushed car, quickly being placed on a backboard, and into the back of an ambulance as a medic tried to assess him.

Dean, or 'Sammy' as the kind-hearted man had started calling him, was second, his injuries not as severe as his father's, but still critical. An oxygen mask was placed over his face as he was loaded into the second ambulance, the driver getting ready to rush to the hospital as soon as the injured teenager was secured in the back. "Radio an air-ambulance, and get them down here, _stat_!" Another medic yelled to his partner when he saw the condition of the youngest Winchester. "This kid's pretty bad!"

Blood was splattered all over Sam's precious notes that lay forgotten in the car as the unconscious boy was extracted from the car wreck. He looked even worse than John and Dean had, the twelve year old's body crumbled and broken on the backboard. The anxious crowd that had assembled to see the condition of the wreck gasped as they saw the third and youngest member of the family struggling to hold on. The driver of the truck, who had only sustained minor wounds to his face and arms, ran his fingers though his hair in shock and guilt, as the kid was hooked up to various machines in front of him.

The ambulances containing John and Dean had just pulled away when the helicopter touched down, and Sam was rushed over to it, unaware of the fact that paramedics were struggling to stabilize him, or that several people were crying just at the sight of the hurt boy. The helicopter took off just as fast as it had landed, and the crowd gathered were left standing, looking up at it, with a wrecked car and fear in their hearts for the small family of three.

**How was that? I have loads of ideas for this story, so I would really appreciate any feedback that people want to give me :)**

**I will upload the second chapter next weekend if I get a good response... Let me know what you thought!**

**ArmedWithMyComputer x **


	2. Chapter 2

"Where are my boys? I need to know how they are! _Sam, Dean_!"

"Please, sir, just calm down. We need to work on you as well." A flustered nurse tried frantically to get the infamous John Winchester to stay still as he thrashed around on the bed. Several members of staff were already attempting to hold him down, but he was too strong, even in his injured state. "Can someone get a sedative over here, fast?"

A clear liquid was quickly injected into the hunter's IV, and he unwillingly sunk into unconsciousness, making the hospital staff breathe a sigh of relief. A nurse scuttled out into the hospital hallway few minutes later, after being sent by the doctor to get an update on the two kids that had come in with the agitated man. She prayed that they were okay, for the staff's sake, at least. Who knew what their newest patient would do if one of the boys didn't make it.

Dean, or 'Sammy' as they were still calling the teenager, had just been down in x-ray, with a suspected fractured cheekbone after being knocked into the windshield. The sixteen year old also had a bad concussion, and deep cuts on his arms that had just been stitched up, as a result of the window shattering on impact with the ground as it rolled.

Sam was in surgery, having being rushed into the operating theatre with a badly broken arm, a shard of bone sticking out, that was causing blood loss that he couldn't afford. He too had numerous deep cuts, combined with deep bruising on his face and arms, which would leave the young hunter with a face that would rival someone who went into the ring with a pro-wrestler and no experience.

Dean's doctor was in his patient's room, staring in shock at the x-rays he was holding in his hand when Dean first stirred. The man was immediately rushing over to the teenager as he came around, shaky fingers trying to reach up and pull off the bandage that was wrapped tightly around his head.

"Easy there, Sam. Don't hurt yourself... You were just in a bad car accident, do you remember anything?"

_Sam... Where is he—Wait, was he calling me Sam?_ Hazel green eyes stared at the doctor's face, slightly unfocused but mostly alert. "Sam...? Where is he? I'm Dean. What happened?" His words came out a bit slurred, but the man got the general meaning.

"You're Dean, are you then?" The boy in the hospital bed nodded slowly. "Okay then, Dean, I need to ask you a few questions..."

Twenty minutes later showed an extremely pissed off teenager, and a frustrated doctor. "Dude, for the last time, my Dad has never abused me or Sam! Just let me see my brother, and then—"

"How do you explain the irrational over-protectiveness over your brother? Or the sheer volume of scars and healed fractures that you and your brother presented with? More than I've ever seen in my medical career... and on two children! Your father was even found with a number of dangerous weapons on his person." His doctor was talking over him again, treating Dean like a child. Seeing the indignant look in his patient's eyes, he added softly, "We can help you, Dean."

"_Fuck you_, man. I. Am. Fine. Now, where are Sammy, and my Dad?"

o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o

Sam was becoming more and more aware of his surroundings as the seconds passed, frowning slightly as he heard an irritating beeping noise coming from somewhere on his right. Scrunching his nose up as the antiseptic scent overtook his senses, he opened his eyes to find a worried looking Dean hovering about two inches away from his face.

Dean was peering worriedly down at his sibling when he opened his eyes. Sam's face was a mess of bruises that were just starting to darken, a split lip looking as cracked and painful as the deep cut that had been stitched just above one of his puppy-dog eyes. His little brother looked like crap.

Sam yelled in surprise and jolted his broken arm, the shock quickly turning to pain that had Dean apologising guiltily. "W'happn'd, D'n...?" Sam groaned, staring in disgust at his heavily casted arm, the green plaster stretching from just above his left elbow all the way down to his fingers. "H'rts!"

His brother interpreted his slurred sentence in a way that only Dean could, and, giving Sam a tight smile, he replied, "Uh, car accident, Sam. Apparently you did a good bit of damage to your arm there... Broken in three places, dude! You just got out of surgery, so you probably won't remember this conversation at all once they top up your meds, but... I'm worried, kiddo," The only response he received was a slow blink from Sam, so Dean took that as a sign to continue. "The assholes here think we're being abused or something stupid like that, and I still haven't found Dad, so I really don't know what to do here. Sammy?"

"H'rts..." Dean rolled his eyes. Sam was a notorious lightweight when it came it painkillers, God only knows what the kid would be like once he started drinking.

"Yeah okay, man. A nurse should be coming along soon to help you out with that, so I'm gonna see if I can locate Dad, and then see what he thinks we should do. Just, um, go back to sleep, Sammy." His brother obeyed the instructions within two seconds of them being given, and Dean had to hide a smile at the sight of Sam snuggled up in the bed like a toddler. _Some things never change..._

With the sneakiness that only a teenage hunter could master, the sixteen year old slunk down the corridors of the hospital, keeping careful eyes out for his father... and the doctors he had run away on. _No one_ could tell Dean Winchester what to do, especially if the orders were to stay put in a hospital bed. It was like stealing from a nun or something. You just couldn't do it, and expect everything to work out.

Truth be told, he knew that he probably should be in bed. His head hurt like a bitch, and the various scrapes and bruises all over him were aching, but he had to keep going. He just had to find his father. No one could threaten to split the Winchester family up, and expect to succeed.

"Dean? Is that you, son?" _Damn._ That ass of a doctor caught him. Turning around slowly, getting ready to run in necessary, Dean fixed his cold eyes on the man as he approached the teenager. "You should be in bed... A few people are here to talk to you." Looking behind the doctor, Dean's heart sank as he caught sight of a group of official looking people. Social workers, mixed in with the hardcore CPS bastards, he guessed.

This could turn into a real bad situation real soon...

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**Hey guys! I decided to update this a few days earlier than I originally said cause for once I actually had a chapter written, and I was like "Meh, what the hell..."**

**Thanks so much to the following for reviewing the last chapter: **Michelle**, **Addict272**, **I'mcalledZorro**, and **jolynn3277** :) You guys made me really happy! A big thanks to everyone who put this on their alerts/favourite-d it as well...**

**Hopefully people will review this chapter and tell me what they thought! I'll get writing the next chapter now, but reviews make me write and update faster!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer x **


	3. Chapter 3

When Sam next woke up, he was (slightly) more coherent. The young boy looked around confused for a few seconds, until the pain kicked in. He grunted as his arm started to throb, pained eyes taking in the hospital scene and the empty seats beside the bed.

That worried him. Dean or his father always there, whenever he had been admitted to hospital before, knowing Sam's phobia of hospitals. The twelve year old glanced around, scared, as he lay alone in the bed. _Why aren't they here? What happened?_ Tears prickled at his eyes, but he swallowed firmly. The hunter side of him took over, and Sam found himself carefully studying his surroundings for any signs of things supernatural, or clues.

The first thing to do was to ready himself for an attack. He needed to think like Dean... _Be_ like Dean in a situation like this. Thinking back to the numerous times they had skipped paying hospital bills by running, he carefully extracted the IV from his hand, just like he had watched John and Dean do on numerous occasions. Long fingers slightly stained with blood, carefully switched off the monitors, being as quiet as possible, and the covers were thrown off the bed.

Sam winced as any slight movement jarred his badly broken arm; at least he assumed it was broken from the heavy cast, and gritted his teeth as he slowly got off the bed. Panting hard, a curse made its way out of his mouth when he realised that none of his possessions were visible. No phone, clothes, small silver knife that had been soaked in holy water, no tiny restaurant salt packets that were constantly in his pockets... Nothing.

_Okay, recap,_ he told himself, _No weapons, no idea what happened, no Dad or Dean anywhere, broken arm_... He was screwed.

The door was opened without warning, and Sam found himself scrabbling for a weapon, hair mussed and eyes scared. The strangers who had entered stopped in surprise at the sight of the injured boy crouched in a defensive fighting position, with an unused bedpan as a weapon.

"Get away from me!" Sam yelled as one of them, a doctor probably judging by the whitecoat, stepped forward in concern. "Where's Dean?"

The man and woman in suits exchanged a glance at this, and notes where hastily written down on a clipboard, eyes filled with pity trained on Sam. The young hunter was getting panicked now, and his body was beginning to slip from his fighting stance. He quickly corrected himself, breathing heavily as the situation started to take its toll on his hurt body.

"Calm down, Sammy... You were in a bad car accident, and you're in the hospital now. Do you remember anything?" Sam's cut and bruised face scrunched in concentration as he frowned and shook his head, silently answering the doctor. "Okay, then, why don't we get you back into bed, and then we need to have a little talk." The man took another step forward.

"Don't call me that, and I said: Get. Away. From. Me." Only his family could call him Sammy. Sam shifted slightly so he was further away from them. He could see nurses gathering behind the small group, and he knew that he needed to do something fast. "Where are my family?"

"That's what we need to talk about, sweetie..." The boy's eyes widened in fear, "No, no, they're okay, but you can't see them for a while, at least until after our questions," The social services lady said, in a fake voice that made it seem like she was talking to a five year old, and not the mature twelve year old that stood in from of her.

Sam went to put the bedpan down carefully, but instead threw it with force, using his un-casted arm, at the throng of adults that had gathered. As they all tried to avoid the solid object that was flying towards them, Sam was running at the door, trying to twist and weave around the arms that reached for his skinny body as he made a break for it.

"DEAN!" He screamed as they caught him, and he was folded into strong arms. The pain was getting more painful by now, whatever position he was being held in aggravating the broken bones. Sam started crying and screaming at the top of his lungs as he was pulled back into his room by concerned adults, who were just doing what they thought was right, but were really traumatising the youngest Winchester.

Sam felt his vision start blurring and the sounds of his shrieks were getting quieter, and that's when he knew he was going to pass out. His body went limp as the world turned black, and the last thing that he heard before he was lost to unconsciousness was the sentence laced with pity that came out of the social services man: "Yep, defiantly abuse, judging by that reaction..."

_No_.

o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o

Dean was brainstorming ways to bust him and Sam out of the hospital when he heard the scream. _Sammy..._ The poor Child Protection Services guy that was assigned to the teenager to make sure he didn't run off again, never stood a chance the moment Dean heard his name being screamed by his brother.

The guy was out cold with a good placed punch and a hard kick to the ribs, and Dean was running out the door within five seconds of the scream. Dean sprinted in the direction of the commotion, and turned the corner just in time to see his brother go limp in the doctor's arms, and be carried into a room. "Sam!" He yelled, shoving the nurses aside as they made as if to stop him.

While they weren't strong enough to contain the rage filled sixteen year old, the three orderlies that were on the scene within seconds were. Dean fought to get out of their grip, and catch a glimpse of his brother who was stretched out on the bed, looking too pale for his sibling's liking.

He was dragged down the hallway into his room, where the unconscious social services man was lying, and Dean found himself being tied into Velcro restraints on his bed. "Let me go! Aaagh!" He twisted and bucked with all his strength to get free, but the restraints were too strong. Dean glared at the men with an almost murderous rage in his eyes. _No one messed with his Sammy_.

His doctor rushed into his room, having heard of all the drama, and he quickly exchanged words with the Child Protection Services people that had also ended up in the teenager's hospital room, looking down on his patient condescendingly.

"We've had to come to a decision under these trying circumstances..." One of them started, a gentle but completely fake smile on his face, "Don't worry, Dean, we're not going to let your father hurt you ever again. You'll be safe now, but we need you to cooperate, and let us help you."

"Screw you, assholes! I want to see my brother!"

"Well, Dean, I don't think that's such a good idea. In fact, for Sam's own good and wellbeing, you won't be seeing him again for a long time..."

o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o

**Thoughts...? This was really hard to write, so apologies if it sucks!**

**Thanks to the following for reviewing the last chapter:** purdys pal**,** Michelle**,** casammy**,** Writer With Sprite**,** Our Eleventh Hour**,** **and** TinTin11**... You guys are amazing :) **

**I'm on holidays now, and if I get a good response, I'll update sometime during the week so keep an eye out! Please let me know what you thought through a review :D**

**Catch you next time,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer xx**


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was silent. Despite the seemingly thousands of questions he had been asked in the past hour, he had kept his mouth shut, vowing not to say a single word to these... _monsters_ until he was allowed to see Sammy .Finally, they left, defeated.

One Child Protection Services man stayed behind though, to Dean's disgust, his least favourite one. The guy that had told him that he and Sam would be separated. The teenager had just fixed the man with one of his best glares; he had been practising all morning, when the man's eyes turned a liquid black. _Demon_.

Dean yelled, and tried to break the restraints they still had on him to no avail. Just as his mouth was opening to yell out for help, not that it would probably do much, the demon said quietly, "I wouldn't do that, Dean Winchester..." The teenage hunter froze; as far as he knew, no one in this hospital knew their real name. This was bad.

"Listen, you evil _son of a bitch_. I will hunt you down, and _murder_ you if you lay a hand on Sam or my Dad. You hear me? I. Will. Kill. You."

The demon threw back its head and laughed right in Dean's face, making him even angrier, "No, you won't, Winchester," The thing sneered, "You won't have a chance to... You know why? Because I've done my job, and I'll be gone soon. Then, you and little Sammy will be all alone, and the great John Winchester will be nothing, 'cause there's no way they're gonna let your family be together after what I convinced them..."

Dean thrashed around in his restraints, tortured eyes fixated on the man's black ones. _No, no, he has to be lying. I won't let them split us up_. "Who are you working for, you evil bastard? Because, I swear, I will send your evil, lying ass back to the Pit. I'm gonna—"

"Oh, Dean," He was interrupted by the monster, who was inching closer to his face, "It really wasn't hard to persuade those do-gooders at all... You and your father really made it easy for me to ensure that Sammy will never see your ugly faces ever again. I'm going to go and seal the deal now, but I'll catch you later. Or at least, this meat suit will, I'll be long gone by the time you get out of those restraints."

The teenager watched with rage-filled eyes as the demon sauntered out of his hospital room, sending the boy a wink as he closed the room. "Sammy!" He yelled, more out of frustration than anything, "Dad!"

o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o

Sam was scared. He had woken up back in the hospital bad, with three adults watching him carefully, their calculating eyes locking onto his sleepy ones with seconds. He sat bolt upright in the bed, tiredness quickly replaced by wariness, arm throbbing once more.

"Its okay, Sammy, everything is okay. We won't let your family hurt you, ever again. You're safe now." The young boy frowned in confusion, seeming to sink into himself. He pressed back into the pillow and his bright eyes dulled and became defensive. The people exchanged another look, taking more notes on that damn clipboard.

"I think that I'd like to talk to my brother and my Dad now," Sam said quietly, fingering his new cast carefully, not managing to hide the wince that came from him moving his too fast.

More meaningful glances were exchanged, "Well, sweetie, I don't think that's a good idea."

Sam's bruised face looked stricken, "But, I wanna see Dean. Where's my dad?"He was answered by a gentle shake of the woman's head, and a ruffle of his long hair by the man. The twelve year old flinched away from the touch, and repeated his words again, "I want Dean."

"Listen, Sammy," Sam cringed at the use of the nickname that was only used by his brother and father, "We know about the abuse, and we're going to help you two boys. But we think it's better if... you and Dean are separated, to give you the best chance of a normal life. Do you understand me, honey?"

Sam shook his head slowly, his brain trying to think up a way to convince these people that he_ needed_ Dean and his Dad. One look at their faces, though, told him that there was no way they were letting him get close to John, at least not now. But he really needed to talk to Dean. Tears gathered in Sam's eyes, and he welcomed them, hoping the image of tears falling down his face would help his case, "Can I just see my brother... One last time?"

A few minutes later, showed a tear-stained Sam being helped into the mandatory wheelchair, and being brought to his brother. Dean's room was conveniently located on the other side of the hospital, and Sam kept a careful eye out for his father on the journey there.

"Sam?" Dean asked when he saw his younger brother being wheeled in. The bruises and cuts on the twelve year old's face really did made Sam look like an abused child, but the most disconcerting thing to Dean was the tears that had dried on Sam's face.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, as he tried to scramble out of the wheelchair, "Dean, are you okay?" The teenager was still tied to the bad, the hospital staff not wanting anymore_... incidents_ happening again. His face was covered in bruises, and while he did look considerably better than Sam, Dean still looked a mess. The woman standing protectively behind Sam placed her hands on his shoulder, keeping him firmly planted in the chair.

"Now, Sam, do you remember our deal?" She said warily, fixing Dean with a look of caution. Sam seemed to deflate in front of his brother's eyes, and he sank back into the wheelchair, hooded eyes locking with Dean's.

"Can we have some privacy?" Dean's tone was cold, and defensive. The woman gave him a look that spoke in volumes; the _'are you seriously kidding me'_ look, one that Dean was very familiar with. "Seriously, bitch? Not two minutes with my brother?" Another shake of her head. "Fine..." Sam looked close to tears again, and Dean desperately wished that he could reach out and hug him.

_Oh, Sam... I'll fix this, I swear._

o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o

John was raging. The woman in front of him was telling him that his kids were being taken away, "You can't do this!" He yelled, terrified of the thought of Sam and Dean being alone. "Where is your evidence?"

He was met with several raised eyebrows, "Mr...?" John had still refused to release his last name, just in case, much to the annoyance of the authorities, "Both of your children are being placed in the custody of the state, based on the circumstances and the horrific amount of past breaks and scars that they have both presented with. The youngest, Sam, had a disturbing breakdown when we attempted to ask him a few basic questions, and Dean..."

"What? What about Dean?"

"Your eldest has displayed some violent tendencies, which have caused the injury of some members of staff," John fought to hide a smile, Dean could get very worked up and defensive sometimes, "And the protectiveness that he has displayed with Sam has been deemed unhealthy, for both Sam and Dean. The decision to separate them, at least for the time being, has been made and—"

"Split them up? You can't— What are you people thinking? They need to be together, so they can protect each other!"

"Protect each other from what?"

John put his aching head in his hands, closing his eyes temporarily, before resuming his fight with the authorities.

_I'll get you boys back, I promise_.

o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o.0.o

**Well, there's chapter 4 :) Just wanted to say that I have almost no knowledge of how the Child Protection Services work in America, so anything that I say here is just my take on it, and how I think the Winchesters would react... Sorry for any horrible mistakes! **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter**: purdys pal**, **Dani**, **moira4eku**, **Michelle**, **TinTin11**, **casammy**, **Paulathe Cat**... Thanks for all your reviews, guys :D**

**The next chapter will hopefully be up by next weekend, so check it out then if you want more :) Please take a few seconds to leave a review and let me know what you thought!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer x**


	5. Chapter 5

Dean was once again being watched. He scowled, all his emotions being pumped into the vicious facial expression, the woman looking slightly taken aback but not saying anything. "You'd better hope for your sake that you're bullshitting me, lady. 'Cause I am not one bit happy about this."

"Dean, honey," His scowl deepened even more, which she didn't even think was possible, "We've been over this. At least for now, you and Sam are to be separated from your father, and you are to be taken to a foster home on the other side of town until a more permanent placement becomes available. We have luckily been able to find a family that are looking for a son around Sam's age, so he will be going there, just to see how things work out."

"He's not their son."

The social worker cursed her careless mistake, the teenager was making her nervous with the intensity of his glare, "My mistake, Dean, but since neither you, your brother, or your father," A shadow passed over the woman's face as she remembered her earlier conversation with the infamous parent, "Has given us your last name, and we couldn't find any ID, we can't search public records for any relations."

Dean's face was emotionless. "We don't have any. When?" At a raised eyebrow, he elaborated, "When are you assholes going to tear me and my brother apart?"

"I know this is hard, but it's in your best interests. We just want you and Sam to have a fresh start, to be able to have a proper childhood. I wish you didn't have to be separated, and I'm sorry, but it was all last notice. You are being discharged later today, and Sam's probably the same."

"Get out. Get the _fuck _away from me, you bitch, and don't come back."

He listened as her footsteps faded down the hallway, before groaning in frustration and slamming his head down on the pillow. This was all so messed up, and Dean didn't know how the hell he was going to make it okay. The restraints were finally off at least, but there were now two guards at his door, _"just in case,"_ or so he'd been told.

Figuring that trying to see John before they took him away was a lost cause, his father was most likely even more locked up than he was, so the only thing to do was to get a message to Sammy. His younger brother had burst into tears when he had been forced back to his room the night before, hands reaching out to grab Dean's bed, while tears ran down his bruised cheeks. Dean had done a lot of yelling, and Sam a lot of crying and half-hearted attempts to stay with his brother, but it hadn't changed a thing. They had still taken him away.

Looking around, the teenager was relieved to see a notepad and pen that lay forgotten on the chair beside him. He grabbed them, and quickly started to scribble a note that was full with hidden meaning to his brother, hoping that it would keep Sam calm, and remind him to keep his head up.

"Hey man, you think you can give this to my little brother before he leaves?" Dean stuck his head out the door, waving the folded piece of paper at one of the men that was stationed outside his door, "I just– can you make sure he gets this?" The guy looked bewildered, unsure what to make of the teenager covered in bruises, who he knew was a victim of direct abuse from his father.

The man nodded hesitantly, looking at his partner and then down at the note the boy had clutched so tightly. It couldn't hurt.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the thoughts of Sam's social worker when she read the piece of paper. It was in the boy's best interests for her to read it, she told herself, just in case. Who knew how messed up the older brother could be? She scanned though the message quickly, frowning in confusion and shock as she absorbed the words.

"What kind of boy who is saying goodbye to his brother calls him a '_little bitch_'?" Sam's social worker thought aloud, "And what on earth does this situation have to do with '_not being in funky-town_'?" A number of other strange phrases came up in the hastily scrawled note, but the woman understood none of them, the short letter ending with the phrase, '_Listen to plenty of Metallica, and don't forget to use salt_.'

A glance into her charge's hospital room showed the twelve year old boy curled up on one side asleep. He looked peaceful for the first time, and his bulky cast was tucked into his scarred body, long hair falling across his face.

Thinking back to the cryptic note, the woman debated whether giving it to the kid at all. Wouldn't it just be better if he could just start over again, without any ties to his troubled past? Seeing a nurse bustle past her and into Sam's room, she made her decision. She followed the nurse into the room, stroking the boy's hair and feeling pity for him as he flinched away once she got close to him.

The note lay forgotten in the rubbish bin.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Sam had given up on the whole struggling idea as he was led to the car that waited for him. One last desperate glance back at the hospital crushed his hopes of seeing Dean or his father running towards him, and he succumbed to the caring hands that helped him into the vehicle. _C'mon Dean... Help me out here, Dad... Don't leave me with these people_.

In fairness, the couple did look very nice, even offering to stop for some ice-cream and sweets on the way home as Sam buckled himself into the car. It was like nothing he'd ever ridden in before, the seven seater family car alien to him as he longed for the black Impala that was his real home.

Their house was a typical rich suburban one, stereotypical of that of a perfect family, kids his age even playing football in the street. They pulled up in the drive, Sam wanting to burst into tears at the horribleness of it all, but he kept silent as he followed them into the house. He was given a tour of his "new home", though the couple were very careful not to say those exact words, they were still very much implied, and then he was told that he would be brought shopping later that day to get some clothes and possessions.

All his stuff had been in the trunk of the Impala, mixed in with the weapons and other supplies, so he didn't think that he would be getting it back any time soon. His thoughts drifted to the classic car, wondering if it was wreaked beyond repair. Whatever had happened, he knew that Dean would never give up on the car that was more of a home than these strangers could ever give him.

Sam just hoped that he'd be able to see it again.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Hey guys! So there's chapter five... Fingers crossed it was okay :)**

**Thanks to all the people who reviewed chapter 4, you're all amazing (!) : **Our Eleventh Hour, Happyface, Paulathe Cat, Trish **(twice :D), **dreamlitnight, BethWinchester97, TinTin11, BranchSuper, twomoms, casammy, Michelle, and twohisglory2002**... Hope this chapter lived up to all your expectations!**

**Once again, I have practically no knowledge of CPS, or what they would do in this situation, so I'm just writing to suit the story... Sorry for any mistakes!**

**Next chapter will be up sometime during the week, so please drop a review on the way out :) The feedback I get from you guys really makes me write faster, and I get so excited whenever I see a review/PM pop up in my inbox!**

**Catch ya next time,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer x**


	6. Chapter 6

Dean stared in disgust at the room in front of him. The day was really not going well for the teenager. First, he had been escorted down to some stupid social worker's car, and then been forced to sit in the backseat. Yeah, and the car had those damn child-locks. Dean had only made this infuriating discovery when he had tried to wrench open the car door, and jump out to freedom. No luck on that front.

Then, they had pulled up outside this huge big house that just seemed to be swarming with kids. The house itself looked shabby, bits of paint peeling off the windowsills, and the gutter half gone. Dean was shoved up the path, kids stopping their ball games to stare at him, at which he scowled back.

When the door opened to reveal a slightly plump woman with a crying baby in her arms, Dean rolled his eyes, and tried to make a break for it. He was stopped by a middle-aged man, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, who grabbed him with ease and tossed him back on the porch. His social worker fussed at him, saying some crap about how he was "going to have to adjust and make the best of things." Dean had to force himself not to give the stupid woman the finger.

Dean was led in, weaving around kids who popped up from all over the place to have a looked at the "new guy", as he heard himself be described as on more than one occasion. Most eyes that stared at him were filled with pity, and he resisted the urge to try and run again.

He knew how it must look. Bruises covered his face, his whole right cheek purpling, and he was limping slightly from when the apparent father of the house had thrown him back on the porch. An expressionless face, that Dean was rather proud of, met the eyes of children who stared at him, the lack of emotion making them flinch away.

Since Dean had absolutely refused to wear the offered scrubs from the hospital, they'd had no other option than to give him his clothes back. He was dressed in the clothes he had worn on the day of the accident, bar the jacket which had been cut off him in the hospital. A s slightly bloodstained t-shirt with AC/DC written in bold print, crumpled jeans that were torn at the knees, and a black hoodie that had dried blood crusted running down from the neckline made Dean look dangerous and like the abused child he knew he had been labelled as.

The stairs creaked and groaned as he was led upstairs to his room. The house was four stories, and more kids stared down at him from the other landings_. How many damn kids are there in this place?_ He was brought to the third floor, and was showed into the third door on the right, one that had a huge skull and crossbones painted crudely on the fading wood.

The inside was even worse; three teenagers his own age and older lying sprawled across the two bunk-beds that took up most of the space, a small desk crammed into the corner, and a chest of drawers that looked as if it would fall apart if you touched it beside it. The three boys gave Dean the filthiest of glares as he slouched against the wall, which he was happy to return with an even more vicious scowl.

"Boys, this is your new roommate, Dean. Please share some of your clothes with him until the next public donations come in, and make him feel welcome. I don't want a repeat of what happened last time with your other roommate." Then the woman, Dean hadn't bothered learning her name, turned to him, "Make yourself at home, honey, and I'll call you boys down for dinner in a few minutes."

His stupid social worker spoke to him before she was about to leave as well, saying "Don't get into trouble, Dean. I'll be back to check on you in a couple of days."

"Wait!" Dean caught her arm in a tight grip before she had a chance to shut the door, "When can I see Sammy again? Can you give me his new..." Dean faltered at the words as they came out of his mouth, "... house number so I can call him?"

She extracted her arm from his hold, and looked sad, "Well, I don't have that information right now, but I'm not sure how great of an idea that would be... Why don't we give Sam some time to settle in first?" Then the door was shutting, and Dean was left scowling at it in frustration_. Bitch_.

"Who's Sammy...? Your boyfriend?" One of the teenagers said loudly after a slight pause, getting laughs out of the other two boys.

"Shut your face before I break it for you," Dean replied coldly, too tired to deal with his new roommates. They were silent for a minute, as Dean stared them down, a dangerous glint in his eyes, and then they burst into laughter again.

"You can't do anything to _us_, stupid new kid. There's three of us, and one of you... I'm Ian, that's Cody, and Matthew is the one with his head up his ass—" This made Matthew frown in mock anger and throw a pillow at his friend, who calmly dodged it, "What's your name again?"

Ian was a confident looking boy, with dark longish hair and a smirk that made Dean want to punch him. He actually wanted to punch all of them. _Assholes_. The one lazing on the top bunk was Cody, short blonde hair and blue eyes making him look the picture of innocence, something that Dean doubted very much. Matthew had dark skin and even darker hair that was shaved just down to his head, only really light stubble. All three of them were fixing Dean with the best superior stares that they could muster up, having no effect on the young hunter.

"Yeah, whatever, man. Trust me; I could kick all three of your asses in about three seconds flat. And its Dean," Smirking at their indignant looks, he flopped down on one of the beds that was currently unoccupied. "Hey, where do you keep the salt in this shithole?"

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Sam lay on 'his' bed, in 'his' room, staring at all 'his' new clothes. He had mostly picked out dark clothes, knowing that they were better for hunting, and had even begged for a few band t-shirts just to feel closer to Dean. The couple, Mr. And Mrs. Parker (Though they told Sam to call them Ann and David), had been only too happy to buy him whatever he wanted, and more.

Piles of clothes had been carefully folded and stacked neatly in the chest of drawers, new games and toys arranged on the book shelves. When asked what type of books he liked to read, Sam had said "Monster books. About ghosts and demons," because it made it feel more like hunting. But he had been met with avoiding eyes, and had ended up with more 'appropriate' books for boys his age, like adventure and pirate stories.

His foster parents had also spent a lot of money on a game system, all sorts of non-violent video games and a bunch of different controllers which had been set up in the living room, along with a modern sound system that was now installed in his room. Sam had pestered the couple to visit the local music store when they had been out shopping, where he had been treated to just about cd he could find that he was sure his brother would like. His music taste now reflected the greatest hits of mullet rock. Dean would have been proud of him.

Right now, Anne and David were in the kitchen, preparing for a small gathering that they had organised for that evening. Only a few family members and close friends, or so Sam had been told, just to introduce him to people. Sam had only nodded quietly, and then excused himself to his room. It was all very overwhelming to the twelve year old, and he just wanted to be with his real family again.

After a lonely hour of just Sam and his thoughts, he was called down to greet the first of the guests. Though they tried to hide it, Sam could see them flinching at the sight of his bruised face, eyes softening with pity as they took in his bulky cast, and most settled for a hair ruffle, or a hand shake. Sam hung back behind Anne after awhile, not wanting to be spoken to like a small child, or be looked upon with such sympathy.

As he sat down to a slightly less than formal dinner, everyone looking expectantly at him as he was asked questions that would have been suitable for an abused child, but not for Sam, he found himself picturing a typical dinner with his Dad and Dean.

They would have stopped at a small diner, one preferably with lots of choice and relatively cheap prices, and the three Winchesters would discuss coming hunts, a topic that had only recently been introduced now that Sam had started hunting. After their meal, and once Dean had scoffed most of the pie in the place, the family would make their way back to their motel and maybe clean the weapons or watch some TV.

Back in the Parker's house, the memories were a bittersweet reminder in his head that it might be a long time until they could have a Winchester dinner; Sam made quiet small talk, and picked at his food. He really didn't want to be there.

_Come and get me soon, Dean. Please. _

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**That was the longest chapter I've written so far, I think! I'm thinking of introducing maybe Bobby or Caleb (you guys choose) in the next chapter, just so John has someone to vent his feelings to, so let me know about that :)**

**Thanks so much for all the reviews (I'm in a hurry, so I can't list you guys all like I usually do!), it really means a lot to me that people take the time to give me the feedback :D Hopefully this chapter was okay for everyone!**

**I'll try and post the next chapter on the weekend, if I get a good response... Please review and let me know how I'm doing! I love to know what people think of my writing, and all your suggestions are really helpful :)**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer x**


	7. Chapter 7

"Aaagh!" Dean Winchester woke up screaming. Unable to think properly, all his thoughts focused on the icy water gushing down his back, he swung out wildly, instinct bypassing common sense. He forgot where he was for a few blissful minutes, catching one of his attackers off guard with a painful punch to the jaw, while the other two attempted to hold him down. "Who are you?"

Then he remembered. The full details of the situation sunk into his sleep deprived brain, and he quickly let go of the other teenager he had been shaking. The hands that had been trying to pry him off the other boy, quickly started to pound him as he blinked his eyes sleepily. Lashing out in a few moments of sharp jabs and controlled blows to his opponents, Dean quickly got the upper hand in the unfair fight.

He used his t-shirt to wipe off freezing water from his face, annoyed, while his roommates rolled around on the floor, severely winded but not that hurt. Running his hands though his wet hair; Dean gave the trio his best death glare – one usually reserved for the supernatural monsters he hunted. "What the hell?"

Cody was holding his face with shaking hands as he peeked out from underneath his long fingers. He must have been the one Dean punched in the face. His blond hair looked almost white in the pale moonlight, and his eyes were filled with shock, "Dude, we were only kidding. You were, uh, talking in your sleep and pissing us off." The truth was that Dean had been moaning out for Sammy in his sleep, muttering about demons, ghosts, and other creatures, while the other three boys had listened, terrified.

"Yeah," Ian continued from his almost foetal position on the floor, where he was holding his ribs carefully, "We just wanted to wake up you for a laugh. Where did you go to school for God's sake, military college?" Matthew nodded painfully, agreeing with Ian, unable to speak; Dean had sent a quick jab straight to his throat, making it impossible for the teenager to talk without pain for the next few minutes.

"Wake me up with freezing fucking cold water? You sons of _bitches_. Do that again, and I will murder you." Pulling off his t-shirt, the young hunter was disgusted to see that his shirt was completely soaked. "This is my favourite shirt," _And my only one now..._ "You bastards. Now what am I supposed to do?"

Inching towards the chest of drawers, Cody grabbed out a random t-shirt and threw it hesitantly at Dean. Dean scowled at him once again, before changing into the soft t-shirt. The teenager missed the comfort of having his trusty .45 under his pillow, disconcerted by the feeling of vulnerability he had felt going to sleep the previous night. It was probably a good thing he hadn't had it though, in this particular situation, because Dean would have panicked and started waving the gun around for sure.

His stomach ached from hunger from dinner the previous night, as he had given his only slice of pizza to a little boy around seven years of age, because the kid had looked scarily like Sammy had at that age. The pizzas had been tossed on the table, and the kids left to fend for themselves, some children even going to blows over who got the biggest slice. Shocked, Dean had stood back for a few minutes, before realising that he wasn't going to get any food if he didn't move fast. But then that little kid had had no food and Sammy eyes, so Dean had sacrificed his dinner, not really hungry when he looked at the other children's small portions.

His late-night scavenging trip down to the kitchen to get some food, not to mention salt and some iron knifes if he could pinch them, had failed. He had been caught by the father of the house, and been sent upstairs with his ears still ringing from the yelling the man had done. Not wanting to make a scene, Dean was just too tired that night; he had retreated to his room, rather than get into a fight with the guy, albeit giving the man some nasty glares and muttering curses just loud enough for him to hear.

His roommates were still staring at him with poorly disguised fear evident in their eyes as Dean rolled over to get some more sleep. He laughed silently as he remembered one of their questions, _"Did you go to military school or something?" Yeah right, more like the Marines Corps for young hunters_. John Winchester had taught his boys everything he had learned during his service, in order to help them protect themselves. A younger Dean had absorbed all the information like a sponge, and Dean was now a deadly opponent in combat, compared to most of his other peers.

Making sure Dean couldn't see them; Ian scribbled a note on a random sheet of paper, passing it to his friends as he glared at Dean's back._ We gotta get him back. When we're in school, we'll make him regret this. _No one made a fool of Ian or his friends and got away with it. Ian was sure that Dean would never see it coming. _He's gonna pay_.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

An angry John rubbed his forehead in frustration, feeling a bad headache coming on, as he waited for someone to give him a damn phone. He was being taken into police custody in a few minutes, and needed to a make an urgent phone-call before the police arrived to take him.

His doctor had reluctantly agreed to lend him his cell phone for a few minutes, but only when John had begged for hours and persuaded the man that he needed to make arrangements for the boys to get their clothes and other possessions. Sighing in relief when he heard the doctor's footsteps returning, John jumped up and grabbed the phone out of his hand.

Dialling the number quickly, he waited for Bobby to pick up with increasing worry. Finally a voice was heard on the other line, the older Winchester turning away from the doctor's interested eyes as he listened to the speaker. "_Singer Salvage yard, what do you want?"_

"Oh thank God, Bobby. It's John. I've got into a bit of trouble..."

"_And let me guess, you need my help? What is it this time, Winchester? Has some ghost gotten the best of you again?_" Bobby's gruff, and slightly sarcastic, voice made John break out into a relieved smile, despite the circumstances.

"It's worse than that. We got into a car crash, and the boys... They've been taken away from me, Bobby, and—"

"_What? Are they okay? Taken by who? Are you okay? John, I—_" The older hunter interrupted John, asking questions with a worried tone in his voice. He had grown fond of the two Winchester boys when he had met them several years ago, and was worried about the tense feel to John's words, anxiety building in the older man's mind.

"Bobby," John said, exasperated, "We're all fine... Well, Sammy broke his arm pretty badly, but as far as I know, they're okay now. CPS took them into protective custody, and the police are coming to take me soon. Listen, I need to you to get to the Impala, and take care of things," John picked his words carefully, knowing the doctor in the room was listening to his every word, "And then I need to get Sam and Dean back. Can you help?"

"_Sure thing, John, just tell me where you are and I'll leave now. Do you know where the boys were taken?_"

As John gave him their location, he became aware of someone walking briskly towards his room, and heard the almost inaudible clink of handcuffs. "Shit. Bobby, I gotta go, so get in touch when you get here. Hurry, things are getting pretty bad." Not waiting to hear his friend's reply, John hung up and threw the phone at the doctor, just as the cops walked in.

As he held his scarred hands out for the handcuffs, John's thoughts were focused around his boys, and the promise of Bobby Singer's help. _I'll fix things, boys. I promise_.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**So, there's the 7****th**** chapter :) Hope it was okay! Sorry if it's not as good as the other chapters, I'm going out in a few minutes, and had to slightly rush this one! But fingers crossed you guys thought it was okay...**

**Thanks to the following for reviewing the last chapter, you guys are all AH-mazing! : **RogueStorm84, Gddssgrl, moira4euka, Adorereading, monkeymuse, TheWater'sChild, CeCe Away, Michelle, Maxine, supernaturalrenegade, twomoms, BranchSuper, namida1407, TinTin11**... Virtual cookies to all :D**

**School starts back this week for me (I've been on holidays for ages!) so I'll try and post the next chapter on Wednesday, but it may end up being Saturday if my teachers are really mean and give me loads of homework :( But fingers crossed there'll be an update in the next few days...**

**Anyway, let me know what you thought, and I'll get down to writing the next chapter :) Your reviews really help me to write, so please give me some feedback!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer x**


	8. Chapter 8

"Now, class, this is the new student, Sam Parker. Be sure to make him feel welcome, and to include him in your groups of friends, and—," Sam winced inwardly at the use of the second name Parker, which he had been forced to accept as they didn't know his last name, and zoned out. He had done this a thousand times, stood up in front of a class of complete strangers, and watched them as they stared blankly back at him. Somehow though, it was very different this time.

His foster parents had been shocked, though they covered it well, when he had let slip that he hadn't attended school in over a month prior to the accident. Kingston High was close to their home, and had an excellent reputation, making it the perfect place for Sam to get his education. A few days later, and Sam was enrolled, all his books and supplies purchased, and being driven to his first day of school.

Shuffling awkwardly through the row of desks to get to his assigned seat, Sam tried not to focus on the way his classmates were staring at him. The bruises on his face were still noticeable, and the deep cut above his eye attracted attention like it was like some kind of beacon. His cast was tucked close to his body, pain still running up and down the limb when it knocked off anything. Keeping his eyes cast downwards, the young hunter finally reached his seat and collapsed silently into it, glad the students could no longer openly gawk at him.

Sam offered the boy sitting next to him, a very short kid with huge glasses and a studious air about him, a weary smile, getting out his books and pencil case. "Hey, I'm Sam." The kid just looked from Sam's eyes to his bulky cast, then to his bruises and back to his eyes.

"Uh, I'm Collin... How'd you break your arm?" He answered shyly, seemingly intimidated by Sam's appearance, even if he did look like a bit of a nerd.

"Car accident. What page are we on?"" Sam quickly changed the subject, not wanting to get into details that would only make him feel even more helpless. Collin told him the page, the twelve year old pushing too big glasses up on his nose, giving Sam a grin that was complete with braces and dimples that appeared. The youngest Winchester returned the smile, hoping they would become friends. He needed all the allies he could get.

The class dragged on for another hour, Sam immersing himself into the familiar equations and numbers, solving all the questions with ease. He had already covered this topic a few weeks ago, stretched out in the backseat of the Impala in between hunts, and he was thankful that he didn't need to ask for help or clarification on some of the harder questions.

When lunch came, Sam followed Collin to a table that was relatively empty, only three or four smart looking kids already sitting there. Collin enthusiastically introduced Sam to them, before describing in detail his last chess match to his friends, the group all gasping in awe as he told them the new move he had tried and succeeded with. Sam smiled along with the rest of them, pretending he was interested in the conversation and eating his lunch that Anne, his foster mother, had packed for him that morning.

The scene reminded him of other schools he had attended, where he would eat lunch with the slightly geek-ier section of the school in the cafeteria, while Dean lounged around with the cooler kids in his class. His older brother would look over at him every few minutes; to make sure he was okay, and to give him the odd reassuring wink, and Sam would smile back.

But this time, when Sam found himself unconsciously glancing around, there was no Dean in sight.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Dean was, quite literally, following the crowd as he walked down the crowded street to his new school. All the kids in his foster home who were old enough attended the same high school, and each morning they all paraded down the streets on the twenty minute walk to school. The previous night, the woman who ran the home had presented Dean with a number of tatty second-hand books that looked about a hundred years old, and a faded school bag.

The teenager was wearing the same clothes he had arrived in, ignoring the stares he got when others realised that the slight splashes of red were indeed dried blood, declining the offer of a lend of clothes from his roommates. With the bag slung lazily over one shoulder, and the air of confidence Dean was radiating, coupled with his impressive array of bruises, the students in his class regarded him with wariness as he sauntered into the classroom. Dean smirked; he had done this almost a hundred times.

The teacher droned on about "including Dean in everything," and telling him that he could "just ask for help if he needed it," but Dean ignored her, making his way to the back of the room without looking back.

Dean could see his roommates sprawled around the back rows, exchanging smug looks with a few other guys that looked just as annoying as the trio he shared a room with. The young hunter gave them a slight scowl as he met Ian's eyes, recalling the awakening he had been given only two nights ago. Since he had kicked their asses, the boys had been strangely quiet, completely ignoring Dean.

Not that he had a problem with being ignored, he was only too happy to avoid interaction with a load of assholes, but the looks he saw them exchanging when they thought he wasn't looking concerned him. Only a little though. He was a _Winchester_, after all.

He was given an incredulous look by the teenager beside him as he flopped down in the nearest seat to the back, the boy glancing nervously around as Dean met his eyes. Deciding that he didn't want to get involved with anyone in this school, there was no point really, Dean didn't offer his name to his partner, just casually ignoring him as he pulled out his worn books.

Settling into a somewhat comfortable slouch in the hard chair, Dean stared out the window for a good half hour, trying to think up a way to get his family back together. The foster home had him on lockdown, the two parents watching like a hawk whenever he emerged from the bedroom for fear of him bolting, and he was sure that the school had been notified of the situation. The pity on his teacher's face had been proof enough. He really needed to start working on a plan, and soon.

Rolling his neck in an attempt to get rid of the stiff feeling, Dean caught Ian's eye as he yawned silently. His roommate was staring at him with an intensity that almost made shivers go down the hunter's back. Only almost though, he had faced much worse. Turning back to his book slowly, Dean frowned as his thoughts turned to Ian. The stare had made him slightly uneasy, and Dean made a mental note to put his guard up around the teenager.

No one threatened Dean Winchester and got away with it. He would make sure of that.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Bobby Singer sped down the relatively empty motorway, his tried eyes once again drifting back to the location he had scribbled down on a piece of paper. John had sounded stressed and agitated when Bobby had spoken to him, making the older hunter more than a little anxious.

Thoughts of what Sam and Dean were doing at that moment made Bobby press his foot down harder on the accelerator, the man not knowing how they were coping. It was the first time something this big and not supernatural related had happened to the family, and Bobby was afraid how it might affect the boys. Dean was known for being fiercely overprotective of his younger brother, and the consequences of them being separated would surely turn out to be disastrous, if Dean had anything to do with it.

And Sammy... Bobby's heart tightened at the thought of the twelve year old, already injured and then being put through the traumatic experience of being taken into protective custody.

The newly restored car Bobby was driving at the moment roared down the motorway, the driver putting every ounce of effort he had into getting to his destination, and hoping that the situation was not as bad as it seemed at the current moment. He vowed to do everything he could to fix it, he owed John and his two boys that much.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Yay, I found time to write this :) Hopefully it was okay!**

**Thanks so much for all the alerts and favourites over the past few days! Big thanks also to all the reviewers of the last chapter: **supernaturalrenegade, BranchSuper, twomoms, RougueStorm84, Michelle, KansasAngel94, CeCe Away, Brielle-W, TinTin11, namida1407, monkeymuse...** Thanks guys :D Oh yeah, there was also someone else who reviewed but didn't sign a name, so thanks to that person too!**

**Anyways, fingers crossed the next update should be Saturday, so let me know what you thought, and check out the next chapter on the weekend :) Please take the time to review... I love all the feedback!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer xx**


	9. Chapter 9

The nightmares started not long after Sam arrived at the Parkers house. After only four nights, he woke up screaming in his bed, images of men with bright yellow eyes, random monsters like the ones they hunted, and random flames still fresh in his memory. He jerked himself awake in the bed, the yells still coming from his hoarse throat, just as his foster parents rushed into the room.

The terrified couple gathered a shaking Sam into their arms, and held him as he trembled, both of them appalled at the intensity of the dream. Sam was still half asleep as he was pulled into the tight embrace, but he knew instinctively that it wasn't Dean, who normally comforted him after vivid nightmares, holding him.

When Sam had calmed down enough to weakly pull away from the hug, he found himself staring into the equally as frightened eyes of Anne and David. "I, um, have nightmares sometimes," Sam began quietly, slightly embarrassed at the situation, "Dean normally helps me afterwards..."

The woman could only hold a shocked hand to her mouth, while her husband floundered for the right thing to say, "Do you want to talk about it, Sam?" the question was carefully asked, both adults nervous for the response, their eyes carefully watching their charge as he rocked unconsciously back and forth on the bed.

The twelve year old quickly shook his head no, wrapping his one good arm and his one casted arm around his terrified body. All he wanted now was his big brother, and his father, to tell him that it was all going to be okay. But clearly everything wasn't okay, if neither of his two favourite people were there, and he was alone with two strangers after a horrific dream.

As his wife settled Sam into bed again, tucking him in and asking if he wanted a hot drink or something to make him feel better, Sam's foster father, David Parker, slipped out into the hallway and pulled out his phone. They had been told to call the boys social worker immediately if anything worrying happened at all, so that was the first call that he made. The woman he spoke to was equally as worried as the couple had been, not at all angry about being woken up at half five in the morning, promising to come out that afternoon to check up on Sam.

It was normal for children to have nightmares, but not ones of that intensity that had them screaming in pure fear for twenty minutes before they finally forced themselves awake. The other call David made was to an old friend of his, who had a degree in child psychology, and who worked in the local hospital with children of around Sam's age. The foster parent made an appointment for Sam, wanting the young boy to get some help working through the issues that obviously still plagued him.

It was clear to anyone who knew Sam Parker that he was troubled, the haunting eyes that pierced each new strangers being only one tiny piece of proof that something wasn't right in the boy's mind. His foster parents had had several hushed discussions between themselves about what to do to try and help Sam to feel more comfortable and happy, but anything that they had come up with had failed. Sam had listened to some of these discussions, breathing quietly behind the door, or crouching low on the stairs, and it only made him feel further apart from his family.

While he was sure that his father and Dean (and the thought that Bobby could also be involved occurred to him) were doing everything that they could to fix the broken family, Sam felt hopeless and weak as he suffered silently in his new home. If they didn't come find him soon, he would have to make his way to them.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Each day longer that Dean spent cooped up in that damn foster home, which was more like a dumping ground, he grew tenser. He had already tried to climb out the window in the middle of the night and run away, but one of his roommates, Matthew, had woken up and seen him. The other teenager had panicked when he'd seen Dean dangling from a rope made of bed sheets three stories off the ground, and stupidly tried to pull him back up.

This had resulted in Dean, who was just over halfway down, letting go in shock at someone else pulling the rope and falling to the ground. Luckily he had not been seriously hurt, just a few scrapes and a badly bleeding elbow from where he had fallen, but he was pissed. After the parents had run out in fear and checked that he was okay, they had shouted for almost an hour at him, before sending him back to bed.

He had trudged into his room at three in the morning, ignoring the incredulous looks he was getting from the other three boys, holding a nearly red tea towel to his arm. Considering the material had been white to start with, his roommates looked at him with fear in their eyes, standing back as Dean hobbled over to the window and grabbed his homemade rope.

They had then watched in shock as the sixteen year old had expertly bandaged his arm and stopped the bleeding, using one of the sheets and the first aid knowledge his father had taught him. A glare was sent in Matthews's direction when the teenager apologised for making Dean fall almost two stories onto the hard ground, but the boy had trailed off and flinched away as Dean regarded him with a look of complete disgust and hatred.

He was so close to getting away, _so close_ to being able to get to Sammy and make this nightmare end, but he could hear the husband on the phone to the social worker, and the wife talking to the police, who had been called as a precaution, and who also made sure that Dean wasn't seriously hurt as he lay dazed on the ground. Dean knew that that had been his best shot, and now it was ruined.

The next day, his social worker arrived at the house after the other children had made their way to school, they had thought that it wasn't wise to let Dean off by himself, afraid that he would try and run again. She knocked at the door with a stern speech already memorized, and a pitiful look that had Dean rolling his eyes the minute he looked at her face. She stayed for over an hour, at first trying to get Dean to open up and his feelings and crap, but then turning to the more direct approach when she saw that she wasn't getting anywhere.

Even though she had no intention of letting Dean near his brother after what had just happened (clearly the teenager had some sort of problem, after the previous night's behaviour), and both she and Dean knew it, he still received a big speech about how the _incident _as they were calling it would affect his chances of getting in contact with Sam.

She finally left, but not before she stepped into the kitchen to have a word with the twp parents, while Dean was told to make his way back up to his room. He stayed downstairs though, and grabbed the briefcase that she had left in the sitting room that moment she was out of sight, ripping it open quickly, and trying desperately to find his or Sam's files. He had managed to find his brother's, which he slid under the couch before resuming the search for his own, before he heard the adults' footsteps returning to the room.

Stuffing random papers into the briefcase, Dean threw it on the couch where it had been before, grabbed Sam's file, which was surprisingly thick, and raced upstairs. His footsteps were light and soundless, as he sprinted into his room, and a brief sense of sadness hit him when a memory returned to him as he thudded quietly up the steps.

A salt and burn they had been on over a year ago had involved burning a piece of hair, which was hidden in an abandoned house, in order to banish the spirit who was preying on innocent teenagers who had been dared to spend the night in the 'haunted' house over the years. While his father went around the back, Dean and Sam had crept quickly up the stairs as quietly as possible, to try and find the lock of hair. It had been Sam's first salt and burn, and his father had even let the eleven year old hold the lighter to the hair, while Dean watched on with happiness.

Settling down on the bed, not even wincing as he whacked his hurt elbow off the wall in his haste to open the folder, Dean started reading, almost trembling in anticipation.

_I'm going to fix this, Sammy_. _I'm almost there_.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Wow. Sorry if this chapter is horrible, I literally wrote in just over half an hour, and I'm still not that happy with it! Anyway, sorry for no Bobby or John in this chapter, but they'll defiantly be in the next one :)**

**The reviews for the last chapter were so amazing, so thanks so much to all you guys (!): **Paulathe Cat, supernaturalrenegade, Writer With Sprite, RogueStorm84, Gddssgrl, monkeymuse, KansasAngel94, Michelle, namida1407, Brielle-W, BranchSuper, casammy, TinTin11, **and **MacGyver007**... Thank you guys :)**

**So, chapter 10 (I can't believe I've actually gotten this far!) will be up on either Wednesday or Saturday, so check it out then if you're still liking this story... Please leave a review before you click that back button, and I'll catch you next week :D**

**Thanks for reading, **

**ArmedWithMyComputer xx**


	10. Chapter 10

Dean was stretched out on his bed, tongue sticking out in an almost comical level of concentration, as he carefully read through the thick folder. He had found no addresses or telephone numbers for where Sam was staying, yet, but there was a ridiculous amount of made up shit written and filed away in the folder. The teenager growled in anger for the sixth time since he had started reading, as he saw yet another long opinion some random psychologist had written on Sam. The guy hadn't even met his brother, for God's sake!

"Stupid son of a bitch," Dean muttered to himself, scanning down through the long paragraphs of meaningless crap that others had assumed about his family. There was also quite a bit of pages dedicated to Dean himself, and the _'possibly disastrous effects that the presence of Samuel's elder brother could have on his development psychologically, as there seems to be a dangerous overdependence on Dean, which could potentially—' _

That's where Dean stopped reading that particular sheet. He cast the piece of paper away with a scowl and a loud "_Bastard!_" Fighting the urge to punch something hard, the hunter struggled through the folder with growing anger.

The slamming of a door, and the sudden noise of numerous loud voices alerted Dean to the presence of the other children, who were returning from school. He sighed, before shuffling the papers that were spread out all over the bed, and sliding them back into the file. Making sure he was not being watched, Dean then hid the folder under his mattress and sat up again, just as his three roommates burst into the room.

They faltered slight at the ferocity of Dean's glare, but continued their friendly banter as bags were thrown into a corner, jumpers pulled off, and shoes kicked off across the room. Swearing profanities under his breath, Dean heaved himself off the bed and stalked out of the room. The only things that Ian and the other two were able to hear was something about "…stupid sons of _bitches_…" and "… taking a _fucking_ walk…" before the door was slammed shut, and Dean was heard thudding down the stairs.

Raising an eyebrow at his friends, Ian nodded to Matthew to take out his phone and text their other friends. Cody grinned in anticipation as they put on their shoes and hurried down the stairs after Dean. It was time to make Dean regret ever coming to the house.

Following behind the other teenager, they stayed out of sight until Dean reached the empty tennis courts, almost on the other side of town. It was then, when Dean began to pick up an abandoned tennis racket and beat the shit out of the wire fence, that the three boys revealed themselves. "What the fuck do you losers want?" Dean growled, not taking his eyes off what he was doing, "And why have you been following me since the house? Oh yeah, tell your other friends to come out from behind that bush too."

Slightly taken aback by how much Dean seemed to know, Ian called the other four teenagers over and they approached the young hunter together. Dean whirled around, his eyes filled with an indescribable rage that was fuelled by raw emotion, and stared at the seven boys. The tennis racket, which was pretty much mangled by the force of Dean's blows, dropped to the ground, as Dean smiled dangerously.

"What's this, Ian? Your posse?"

Ian didn't say anything as Dean threw back his head and laughed loudly, his toned body visibly shaking with the intensity of his amusement. "Dude, seriously, you don't want to do this… Just walk away."

A few seconds passed after Dean's warning, and the teenagers all looked to Ian for guidance. He swallowed nervously, before reminding himself that it was ridiculous. There was seven of them, and one of Dean.

"Get him."

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

The office was quiet as Sam sat silently in the chair, the psychologist staring intently at him. "Um, can I leave please? I have an essay that I have to write for school…"

"Not just yet, Samuel. I have a few questions that I'd like to ask you." Sam squirmed in the chair, already feeling uncomfortable in the stiff chair, his hands neatly folded in his lap.

"It's Sam… Not Samuel."

"Does your father call you Samuel when he gets mad at you, Sam? Does he beat you or your brother sometimes when you've been bold?" The man asked outright, noting the surprise on Sam's face. "It's okay. You can tell me, son."

"Um, no and no," Sam started, confused at what the man was getting at. He didn't want to let anything slip out that might reflect badly on John or Dean, but he had a feeling that this was going to be an awkward session. His foster parents were waiting worriedly outside and Sam had no doubt that they would be told everything that he said to the doctor. "And I'm not your son, sir."

Sam winced slightly; the sir hadn't meant to come out. It was what he called his father during the intense trainings him and Dean suffered through, and it always seemed to slip out when he was nervous or stressed.

"Do you have to call your father sir, Sam? Does he get drunk sometimes, and come home and maybe… violate you or your brother?" Sam stared at the man in complete shock, unable to believe that he had really just been asked that question.

"I, uh—_ What_? No!"

A note was made in the psychologist's small notebook, and his eyes peered into Sam's again, the glasses making them seem even bigger than they actually were. "Well, maybe we'll come back to that, huh, Sam?" A gentle smile was pasted on the man's face as the twelve year stared in confused bewilderment at him.

"My father doesn't abuse me, doctor," Sam finally managed to get out, as he shifted in the seat again. More scribbled notes were made. "Can I please see what you're writing, sir?" Another internal wince, he really needed to stop saying sir, judging by the look on the man's face.

"Just because you don't put a label on something, Sammy, doesn't mean it isn't happening…"

"Please don't call me Sammy," Memories of Dean calling him that affectionate nickname came back to Sam, and sadness twinged at his heart again. He shoved his feelings away though; he needed to be on the top of his game if he wanted to make it out of the room with some shred of his true childhood in the man's head.

"Okay, son. Now, Samuel, what can you tell me about your mother?"

Sam sighed; this was going to be a long few hours. He considered making a run for it, and taking off down the corridor, but he knew that that would only add to the CPS's story that he was an abused child. He was going to have to suffer through this.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"You gotta help my boys, Bobby," John said quietly, "You have to get them together."

Bobby Singer rubbed his hand through his hair, sighing in frustration, "I've told you, John, I'm trying. I've made dozens of calls to CPS, the hospital, and just about everyone I can think of, but the information is highly classified. Caleb and Ellen are doing everything that they can as well, but both of them are too far away to do any real good."

The two hunters were speaking in barely audible tones, in a conference room in the prison where John was being held until his trial. While John was clad in the prison's generic jumpsuit, Bobby was wearing a priest collar, and a black suit.

He had posed as 'Father Jennings,' a local priest that John had known during one of his travels, and he had come to '…give John the spiritual courage to confess to what he had done…' It had been the only way to get into the prison and see the hunter without being listened too, and John had to admit that Bobby had been like his saviour when he'd seen him walking into the room.

"Oh, God, Bobby… This is such a disaster." John put his head in his hands, looking exhausted and drained.

"It's going to be okay, John. But I think that we need to get you out of here before we do anything. It'll be easier with both of us out there…"

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

**Hey! Hope that was okay :) Ugh, okay, I'm sorry if that thing with the psychologist was really stupid on my part, but I've never been to one, and I wanted Sam to have to answer some pretty ridiculous questions… Apologies for stupid-ness!**

**Thanks to all the AH-mazing reviewers of the last chapter :P : **RogurStorm84, Brielle-W, Paulathe Cat, supernaturalrenegade, KansasAngel94, Michelle, Branch Super, TinTin11, monkeymuse, Writer With Sprite, Gddssgrl, namida1407 **… :D**

**Next chapter will be up on Saturday, so leave a review, and I'll see you then :) The feedback I'm getting is really helping to write the next few chapters, so thanks so much again to all the reviewers!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer xx**


	11. Chapter 11

Ian stepped back momentarily as the three muscled members of his 'posse', as Dean had called it, lurched forward and threw themselves at the lone teenager. Within the blink of an eye, Dean had swooped down and picked up the almost broken tennis racket, and was swinging it.

The sports utensil turned into a weapon as it was swung at one of the boys with impossible force. It hit him full in the face, and the teen staggered back as he was caught off guard. Not pausing in his stride, Dean whirled around and dealt a hard punch to the second boy who was about to hit him, then swiftly taking the legs out from under the third. Rushing forward, the other four converged on Dean.

For a few minutes, the young hunter was in his element, his toned body easily taking out his attackers. Ian found himself with a bloody nose, and a black eye as the now dangerous weapon was turned on him. He yelled and ducked as Dean swung out again, yelling out for someone to "Get that _fucking _thing off him!"

Aware that his weapon was probably going to be forced off him, Dean changed easily to another tactic, swinging the racket one last time at Matthew's head before switching to hand to hand combat. Matthew went down hard, the racket hitting him on the side of the head, and he took out one of boys from school with him as he fell heavily on the ground. Cody was full on scared of Dean by that point, and he went to back out of the intense fight that was going on, but he found himself running into Dean's fist.

He showed no mercy however, as he skilfully tried to singlehandly take on the teens. The sixteen year old had already incapacitated two, Matthew was moaning around on the ground, while another nameless creep was holding his leg in agony. Dean embraced the anger that had been brewing in him for almost a week now, ignoring the pain that was coming from his side and arm where a few of them had gotten lucky hits in.

Ian cried out as Dean landed another perfect punch, this one right in the jaw, and retaliated with an unskilled kick to the teenager's knees. While the move was sloppy and just downright embarrassing to anyone with any sort of fighting experience, it hit one of Dean's weak spots, and he stumbled.

The other boys picked up on this, and the fight quickly turned around as Cody dealt his roommate a hard blow to his back that left him gasping for air, and falling to his knees. But Dean was still a Winchester, and he found that he was in the ideal position for a few nasty groin hits, and so he took them, sending two of his attackers down to the ground alongside him. Tired of Dean besting him, Ian attempted to take control by grabbing Dean by his hair, and wrenching Dean's bloody face back so that he let out a grunt of suppressed pain. "You bastard! Your gonna pay for fighting back by-"

He was interrupted by Dean's rasped retort that was said with a dangerous expression and a one fingered salute, "You son of a bitch, Ian. Fuck you."  
>Growling in frustration, the other teens held Dean down while Ian punched him and kicked him repeatedly in the stomach. Feeling his ribs bruise and crack had almost no effect on Dean, he was a <em>hunter<em> at the end of the day, and Ian frowned in frustration as Dean's face remained expressionless.

The son of the infamous John Winchester was physically held down as he struggled, pinned down on the tarmac that was stained with blood, as his roommates beat the crap out of him. Dean gritted his teeth against the pain as he felt his body start to betray him by reacting slower, the teenager not struggling as much as he wanted to, for sheer lack of energy and abundance of pain.

When Ian was done trying to kick and punch Dean into submission, the hands holding him down were released, and they all started high-fiving each other. Dean noticed with a smirk that not one of the boys had come out of the fight without blackened eyes, and split lips. They were all moaning about some injury, reaching down to help their friends who were literally crying on the ground. Biting his lip, Dean slowly raised himself to one knee, holding in his cry of pain as he rose to his feet.

"No-one beats a Winchester."

That was all Dean said before he launched himself at Ian, who was caught completely off guard from where he had been examining his sprained wrist. Dean knew he looked probably half dead, blood streaming down his face and his t-shirt ripped, exposing the already shocking bruises, but the other seven didn't look much better. All of them looked like they had been hugely outnumbered in an unfair, when in reality; they had just been fighting a trained hunter. A _pissed_ hunter.

Ian's friends were too afraid of Dean Winchester to even try and help him. They could only watch.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Walking out of the psychologist's office, Sam's head was spinning. After three hours of non-stop questioning about his father, brother, and just about every other random thing on the planet, he was exhausted.

He was smushed into yet another hug by his foster parent, they seemed to feel the need to wrap their arms around him everytime he looked at something funny, and looked up to see the psychologist emerging from the room. He ruffled Sam's hair, before nodding slightly to Mr. Parker, and then retreating into his office once more.

Turning his puppy-dog eyes on full blast, Sam turned to his foster mother and said quietly, "Can we go now? Please?"

She practically melted in front of him, as she always did, and pulled him into yet another hug. Sam endured the long embrace, and when he could breathe again, he saw that his 'father' had followed the psychologist into the office. "C'mon, sweetie, why don't we get some ice-cream?"

Sam followed the woman, seeing no other option but to go along with her, but his mind was still reeling. The questions asked had been shockingly blunt and horrific, the twelve year old having been asked on numerous occasions if he was being abused, physically or sexually. Something told Sam that normal psychologists weren't quite as bad, that this particular one must have just been slightly off, but he couldn't shake the look of intense pity and sympathy that had made his skin crawl.

He really needed to get away from the place, and back to his family, before it was too late. The longer he stayed with the couple, the more he could feel the pressure building up in him, panic welling up inside, that threatened to overcome him.

Sam needed his big brother.

The ice-cream was cold, and the sweet vanilla flavour calmed him slightly, as the twelve year old quietly ate, listening to his foster mother babble on about a party one of her relatives was having, that they were planning to attend. Plans of getting a proper tuxedo for Sam, for maybe getting a haircut (he winced slightly at that idea), and for having one of his friends over to his house floated over Sam's head as he drifted off. But he was brought right back down to earth at the mention of the psychologist.

"No." He said firmly. "I don't wanna go back. Please, don't make me…" The woman looked heartbroken, surely Sam needed someone to confide in, and to help him solve some problems, but the young Winchester was not budging. "I'm not going back there."

"But, Sam—"

"Please don't make me." The old waterworks appeared, and more hugs were given as Sam allowed tears to spill over. Mrs. Parker fell for the act, feeling horrible as she saw Sam start to cry at the thought of returning to the psychologist.

"Oh, honey, it's okay. You don't have to go back to him, I promise, it's okay…"

Because, if there was one thing Sam Winchester was, it was stubborn.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Sitting in a restaurant alone, Bobby Singer scanned the people around him for the hundredth time. The person he was waiting for was already fifteen minutes late, and Bobby was panicking.

He needed the guy to be there, needed him for the plan that he and John had thought up, but doubts were whirling around the older hunter's head. It was going to be near impossible for them to break John out of prison with just the two of them, but it was going to be harder to find the boys. Horror stories of children lost in the foster system forever had been haunting the hunters, and both were extremely stressed.

Wiping a hand across his face in an attempt to calm down, Bobby sighed deeply, and then looked up to see a familiar face, "Hey-a, Bobby."

"You son of a bitch, you're late! But, _man_ is it good to see you, Caleb."

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Lol, Caleb snuck in at the end :) I just really wanted him in there! **

**That was my first time doing a fight scene as well, so fingers crossed that I didn't completely screw it up *gulp* Hope it was okay for everyone!**

**Oh my goodness, this had gotten over a hundred reviews :0 **_**What?**_**! That's ridiculously crazy and amazing at the same time, and I am so surprised! Thanks so so much to everyone who has reviewed so far, especially the guys who reviewed the last chapter: **monkeymuse, purdys pal, supernaturalrenegade, Gddssgrl, Writer With Sprite, RogueStorm84, ArmyOfDuctTape, Michelle, twomoms, namida1407, casammy, Happyface, **and **BranchSuper.

**I should have the next chapter ready by Wednesday, so leave a review, and I'll get to writing it :) Thanks for all the feedback so far! Hope you enjoyed that chapter, and let me know what you thought…**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer x**


	12. Chapter 12

Dean was about to pass out. He could feel it. Unlike most other teenagers his age, Dean had often been injured enough to know when he was about to lose consciousness, but was often stubborn enough to try and ride it out.

He grunted almost inaudibly as his fist slammed into Ian's face for the fifth time. He could sense the rest of the 'posse' watching on silently in fear. Well, Cody and another one were actually crying, full on sobbing really, but they would be fine. Dean on the other hand… He was pretty badly beat up, worse than normally, but he'd suffer through it silently. He always did.

Just as the last of his strength was leaving him, a voice shouted out from the distance, "Hey! What are you kids doing over there?"

The group of teenagers started limping off, dragging Ian to his feet as Dean fell to his knees on the ground, exhausted. A middle aged man came running over to Dean, his face looking shocked beyond belief as he stared down at the teenager. The hunter's vision wavered, black spots taking over his vision, before everything went black and Dean fell on his face with a moan.

The teenager came to a few minutes later, pained eyes opening to see worried blue ones meeting his. "I—Uh, wha?" He managed to mumble, sitting up painfully, ignoring the man's flustered hands that tried to push him back down.

"Oh, God. Crap. Don't move, okay, kid? I just called an ambulance… Oh, shit, you're bleeding. I—Oh, God. Were you getting mugged by those boys?" Dean ignored the ramblings of the panicked man, easing into a sitting position before rising to his feet. "What are you doing? Sit back down; the paramedics are on their way… Oh, God, you're about to pass out. Oh my—Take it easy kid, I—"

That was about all that the guy got in before Dean started running. His hunting instincts took over, and he blocked out the pain, sprinting across the field until he was out of sight. Ducking in behind a particularly large bush, Dean took deep breaths, one arm wrapped around his torso, and the other braced against a branch in an attempt to keep from passing out again. Assessing his injuries professionally, Dean tried to think up his next move.

He guess that he had a few cracked ribs, maybe one or two broken ones, a possible cracked bone in his hand, though it could well turn out to just be badly sprained. Whichever it was, it hurt like a _bitch_. Dean knew his face probably looked a state; it would be a pain to try and hide it, and a shit load of bruises everywhere. He smirked, despite his situation. The other teens looked just as bad as him, Ian even worse. They had it coming, though, he reasoned.

He groaned inwardly as he realised that he would have to return to the foster home. Sam's file was there, and he needed the information inside it if he ever stood a chance of getting his family back together. It also meant that he would have to face his foster parents and their irrational rage towards him, which would only be magnified by a thousand if Ian and the others arrived home before him. Which they almost defiantly would.

Pulling his hood up and bowing his head, Dean made his way slowly, and painfully though he hid the limp, out of the park. It wasn't a long walk back to the foster home, but he guessed that it would take him a while, with the pace he was going. _This is just fucking great_.

A search of his bloodied jeans revealed a ten dollar not, and some coins. The money had come out of Matthew's jeans— Dean had been low on cash the night before and, besides, the guy was an asshole. He slunk into a nearby pharmacy, quickly purchasing some gauze, tape to wrap his ribs with, and painkillers. The cashier had given him a questioning look, but he hadn't seen his face, and Dean was out of there just as quickly.

_Time to face the fucking music… _

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Doodling absent-mindedly on his cast, Sam listened to the comforting music that was Led Zeppelin, with a smile on his face. While there were a few scrawled signatures of his 'friends' in school, Sam was currently decorating the cast with the logos of his brother's favourite bands. So far, he had Black Sabbath, Metallica, and AC/DC.

He didn't even really like their music, not before the accident anyway, but the twelve year old found himself practically addicted to the music that he knew inside out. It was the only thing that he had left of his brother, and he found himself acting like Dean in his absence. Faded band t-shirts were worn on a regular basis, and Sam's walk became an imitation of Dean's confidant strut, his retorts now sharp and sarcastic.

Sam had pushed his timid nature down, and embraced his brother's guarded personality, worrying his foster parents as he shut inside himself. At school, the other children were wary of him, even his friend Collin regarding him with a slight hint of fear, and all conversation stilled when Sam approached them.

He knew that it had somehow gotten out that the Parkers were not his real parents. He also knew that the older students suspected he had been abused, and his classmates had no idea what had happened, but knew that something wasn't right. He had also been caught by the class bully checking that his small pocket knife and dagger were still in his pocket while in the bathroom, and the muscled boy had nearly peed his pants everytime Sam came close to him ever since.

Sam had made sure that he was armed at the first chance that he got. A pocket knife had been purchased in a small shop while he had slipped off to the 'bathroom' during a trip to the mall, and then it had been soaked in holy water, that had been blessed with Sam's perfect Latin and a rosary he had found on the street. His pockets were also weighed down with small salt packets, which had been quietly slipped under the table during meals, and a small sliver blade was always tucked into his shoe first thing in the morning.

The blade had been constructed from a sharp silver kitchen knife, that Sam had whittled down and sharpened the edges of with his new pocketknife. He hadn't been sure if the pocketknife was made of pure silver, so he had taken no chances, and made it extra sharp.

Sam felt safer walking the halls of school with his weapons against the supernatural, and more than once had quickly coughed the word _Cristo_ inconspicuously while in normal conversation with someone. His father and Dean had taught him to take no risks, and Sam followed the orders given long ago to the tee. He had quickly come to the conclusion that none of his classmates, teachers, or parents were possessed, but there was still a chance that a demon could track him down, and then everything could be threatened.

Blinking back tears that stung at his eyes, Sam sniffed silently as Dean's favourite song started playing. The guitar rift was truly one of a kind, and Dean ranted about the lyrics and music at every chance that he got. _I need to get out of here._

Everything about his life with the Parkers was fake; His 'parents', his last name, his 'friends', his attitude, his music taste… Sam was slowly suffocating in a bubble of lies. His body tensed as Mrs. Parker called upstairs to tell him that they would be heading out to dinner in a few minutes, to meet up with Sam's new cousins in an expensive restaurant.

He groaned, deciding that he had waited long enough for Dean and John to come and get him. He just couldn't take it any longer. He would have to be the one to get his family back together, would have to be the one to assemble the broken pieces of the Winchester family.

_I have to run away… And soon. _

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

John kept perfectly silent and still as he sat crouched in the laundry basket that Caleb was driving along the halls of the prison. The plan was clichéd from countless movies, but it was proving to be effective as the two hunters made their way out of the prison without detection.

Bobby had managed to get a hunter from Ellen's Roadhouse that was skilled in computers to hack into the prison's CCTV tapes, erasing all evidence of John's escape as it happened. How he had managed to do it, the three hunters had no idea, but they didn't care. If it got the oldest member of the Winchester family out and walking the streets, it was good enough for them. All that they knew about the deal, was that they now owed the guy a cold beer.

Feeling the sudden change in temperature, and detecting a slight breeze coming in through the thin material of the basket, John allowed himself a mental fist pump, knowing that their plan had worked and that Caleb had just wheeled him out the back entrance. The signal for the all clear was a slight kick to the basket, and John practically jumped out of the laundry cart when the kick came from the other hunter.

Rubbing the back of his head where Caleb's foot had connected, he scowled slightly at the younger man, before breaking into a grin. He then strode over to the truck where Bobby was keeping watch quickly, ignoring Caleb's sounds of triumph.

Hopping into the front seat beside Bobby, John fixed the cap over his head so that it covered his eyes and most of his face. Turning the music up slightly, it was one of Dean's favourite songs that was on; he turned to the other two hunters, and smiled dangerously. "Let's go out and find my boys."

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Whoa, I can't believe that this is already at chapter 12… :0 Oh yeah, did anyone guess who the random hunter from Ellen's bar is…? **

**Thanks so much to all the reviewers from the last chapter! **Supernaturalrenegade, KansasAngel94, Adorereading, RogueStorm84, ArmyOfDuctTape, namida1407, BranchSuper, TinTin11, Gddssgrl, Michelle, monkeymuse, **and** FutureMrsDeanWinchester **… :)**

**Next chapter will be up on Saturday, so I'll see you then! Please leave a review before you press that back button :P**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer xx**


	13. Chapter 13

"_You_!" His foster mother screamed at him, as Dean tried to sneak quietly into the house. "How could you just—You're a monster!" She dragged him by his bad arm into the kitchen, Dean was too weak to resist as would have normally, shrieking at him the whole way.

Ian, Cody, and Matthew were sprawled out on the kitchen chairs, ice packs everywhere, and the other children looking in nervously. Most of the kids flinched with undisguised fear as Dean was dragged past them, no one seeing his beaten face or various injuries underneath his baggy hoodie. Cody, with his leg propped up on another chair, squeaked quietly when he saw the hunter enter the room, and tried to discreetly inch himself away from Dean as the woman started yelling at him again. Ian and Matthews' faces both paled under the bruises and their eyes grew scared.

Dean was exhausted, and the pain was almost at the level where he couldn't hide it. He swayed slightly on his feet, blocking out the pointless rant that was being fired on him. The father grabbed the bag that he was holding out of his hands, spilling the contents all over the table, and then staring at them in disbelief. Gauze rolled across the table, along with other supplies and painkillers that looked _so_ good to Dean.

"What are these?" Dean didn't answer, concentrating on staying upright. He had to retain _some_ of his dignity. "I said," The man repeated, leaning down so his eyes were level with Dean's, "What is th— What the _hell_?" He had noticed Dean's face.

The man yanked down the teenager's hood, looking taken aback as Dean stared silently at him, his face a mess of bruises and cuts. His foster mother gasped loudly, and moved closer to him, "How did…" Dean knew that his face was already covered in bruises, and the right side of it was badly grazed from the ground where he had been held down, struggling against hands as Ian had kicked his upper torso and stomach mercilessly.

Dean took a few steps back, scowling as the woman went to touch him, unconsciously shutting off all indications that he was in pain. His fists clenched, Matthew let out a whimper at the sight of Dean's bloodied knuckles, and he forced himself to stand upright and strong. "Stay away from me." His lips were cracked and sore, and Dean felt a trickle of blood run down his chin as his split lip opened up again. He didn't wipe it away.

"Dean, I— What happened, boys?" The foster mother whirled around, fixing the other three teenagers with a sympathetic but questioning stare. "Who beat up who?"

"Dean." Ian said immediately, his eyes looking terrified, "It was all Dean. We were just walking with some of the others from school, and he jumps out of nowhere with a freaking tennis racket, and starts beating the shit out of us. Because we were so unprepared, he got the jump on us, and he fights like a freaking _ninja_. And he wouldn't stop, no matter what we said. He's a fucking head case; he should be locked up… It's not safe to be around this crazy bastard." The other two nodded along, tears falling down Cody's cheeks.

Ian spoke with such conviction, tears shining in his eyes, that both the foster parents turned back to Dean with unsympathetic eyes. Clearly, they had made their minds up. "Is this true, Dean?"

Dean narrowed his eyes, not saying anything. "Dean!" The father growled when the young hunter showed no intention of opening his mouth.

"It's probably some physcotic problem to do with the fact that his family's fucked up," Ian sneered, "He even mutters his brother's name in his sleep, screaming for _Sammy_ in the middle of the night, like a fucking crazy. And his daddy most likely hit him so bad that he learned to fight back like a fucking crazy animal. And his mother was probably a whore that left him, and—"

Dean snapped, and lunged at Ian, murder in his cold green eyes. Ian screamed like a girl, almost falling off the chair in an attempt to get away from Dean's outstretched arms. "You _son of a bitch, shut the fuck up!_" Dean yelled at Ian at the top of his lungs just before the man caught him around the middle, strong arms tightening around already broken ribs. He then screamed in pain, automatically swinging his elbow back and catching the guy in the face, twisting out of his grip with some more well placed hits.

Dean backed up until he was against the wall, crouched in a defensive position with one arm wrapped around his torso. "Stay back."

His three roommates were looking as if they were just about to pee their pants, the mother was hysterical and almost in tears, the father moaning on the floor with his face in his hands, and almost all of the younger children were screaming in pure fear.

"Somebody call the police!" Ian yelled, "This guy's fucking _insane_!"

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Sam checked that his bag was packed properly for the hundredth time, making sure that he had everything. He had taken all of his school books and other educational material, except the novel he was reading with his class that he loved, and replaced it with his other things. Money was the first thing that was packed, he had been saving his allowance for two weeks, and then the clothes he had been bought.

Sam knew that Dean loved the faded band t-shirt look; he had specifically bought them two sizes too big in the shop, so he picked his favourites and shoved them in. Next, were the cassette tapes and CDs that he had been bought, all Dean's favourite bands again, but only enough so that it wouldn't be obvious that anything was missing.

Sam wore the pair of hiking boots that he had insisted on buying, and packed the brand new sneakers in the bag, along with the sandwiches that he had been saving for days. Sure, they would be stale when he went to eat them, but he'd had worse, and it was better than nothing.

A few other items were added to the stash, and then Sam was ready. He hid his schoolbooks and copies under his bed so they wouldn't be found until later, taking a deep breath, before running down the stairs. Dodging Mrs. Parker's open arms, he yelled goodbye, and hopped into his foster father's car. "Ready for school, champ?" Sam nodded quietly, remembering that John had sometimes called him champ. A lump gathered in his throat, but he pushed down the tears, and tried to act normal for Mr. Parker.

Though he was stoic and quiet on the outside, he shone on the inside, as he thought of his plan. Today, he would be free from the Parkers, and could begin to find his father and brother. The car ride was silent, and Sam plotted the whole way to school.

He jumped out of the car almost the second that it stopped, and said goodbye to a bemused Mr. Parker. "Have a good day at school, Sam! I'll be back to pick you up at the usual time…"

"See you then, bye." _Haha, so long, sucker_.

Sam had the sense to wait until the car was out of sight, but then he whirled around, and broke into a run in the opposite direction. He had purposely chosen his biggest hoodie to wear under his coat that morning, in order to hide his bulky cast, so he quickly took his coat off when he stopped a few minutes later, shoving it into his packed bag. He also fixed a cap on his head, one that he had chosen in the shop because it had reminded him of Bobby, and pulled it down so it concealed his eyes.

His thoughts turned to Dean; he swallowed down tears that threatened to spill over, thinking of what Dean would say in the situation. _You're doing great, Sammy. Keep going, and everything will be okay_. _We'll fix this._

Sam had decided that the best place to go would be back to the hospital where the whole incident had blown out of proportion, and then see if he could find out where Dean went. Once he was back with Dean, his older brother would figure out a way to get them to John, and then everything would be okay_. _The hospital was quite a long way from where Sam had been taken, but the twelve year old was prepared to make the journey, and get everything back to normal. He would do whatever it took to get his family back together.

_Just find Dean_, he told himself. _Gotta find Dean_.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**So, I hope that was okay :) Aww, I'm so mean to poor Dean… Don't worry, John, Bobby, and Caleb will defiantly be in the next chapter, I just didn't have enough time to write them in! My bad…**

**Whoa, did anyone else watch the season 6 finale (Don't worry, I won't give any spoilers!)…? 'Cause I was totally freaking out for the whole episode, and then I was really sad when it ended! But, Jeesh, I'm still totally reeling from it :0**

**Thanks to all the reviewers from chapter 12! You guys are awesome: **supernaturalrenegade, RogueStorm84, monkeymuse, Brielle-W, Michelle, Lucy'n'theMachine, hyperfuzzy, KansasAngel94, twomoms, Girafa **(twice!)**, namida1407, Gddssgrl, courtice1, casammy, **and **BranchSuper.** :)**

**Leave a review if you liked it, and let me know what you thought :P I'll hopefully be back on Wednesday for the next update!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer xx**


	14. Chapter 14

The police were all over the house within five minutes after the foster father pulled out his cell and made the frantic emergency call.

The scene was mostly the same; Dean was still panting but in a defensive position, leaning against the wall to avoid passing out, his three roommates had summoned up the courage to stay in the same room, but were huddled together as far away from Dean as they could be . The kids that had been watching the drama fold over had run upstairs screaming their heads off. The kid who had reminded Dean of Sam had stared at him with wide, confused eyes before being ushered upstairs.

Three cops burst through the doors, running into the kitchen and immediately assessing the situation. Dean, looking around with exhausted but sharp blue eyes, saw that it was his last chance to get away. As the first cop made his way towards Dean, his hands able his head in a sign of peace towards the clearly delusional and injured teenager, he made his move.

Dean dodged his calming hands and scowled at the offer to 'get Dean some help', and ducked under the guy's arm. His foster mother screamed again as Dean made a dash for the door, shutting out the pain that crashed over him in waves. The first cop cursed loudly, and tried to grab him again, but tripped on the roll of gauze that had fallen onto the floor during the scuffle.

The other officers were fast though, and one managed to make a grab for Dean, a rough hand tightening quickly around his injured torso, making the teenager curse and groan in pain. The other one was put off by Dean's suppressed, agony filled cries and only ended up clipping him on his side with a heavy arm, getting a quick backwards jab to the face from Dean's bloody elbow in return.

Dean made for the stairs, hearing the heavy footfalls of the two cops behind him. Scooping up a bag of discarded marbles on the stairs – You gotta love kids – he dropped the bag, and sent hundreds of the tiny balls tumbling down the stairs, slowing down the cops. Wrenching open his bedroom door, he made it to his bed, stuffed the top page of the file into his shoe, and opened the bedroom window before the police caught up to him.

They yelled loudly at the sight of a bruised Dean halfway out the window, sprinting forward and catching hold of the teenager before he managed to throw himself three stories. Sure, Dean knew he would have probably broken a bone or something, but he would've been able to get away, and that was his main goal.

He was then thrown against the bed, cursing loudly as his ribs were treated roughly. Handcuffs were quickly attached to his wrists, blood trickling onto them from the cuts on Dean's knuckles, but the hunter resisted all the way, "You bastards! Let me go, I didn't do anything!" His voice was strong and full of rage, but both officers could hear the tone of pain present.

Dean's shirt was carefully lifted up, in an attempt to find the injury that had the stoic boy moaning in pain when he was jostled, making both cops gasp in shock and guilt. The deep blue and black bruising that splattered Dean's abdomen was clearly visible, looking like something from a movie or TV show. "Did those kids downstairs do that to you?"

The teenager said nothing, his green eyes narrowed in hate and anger. "Look, uh, Dean, if you don't say anything, we're gonna have to take you in…" Still silence. "Kid, just tell us what happened."

Sensing that having the conversation while the victim was pressed up against a bed and restrained in handcuffs, the officer stopped talking, instead sending a meaningful glance to his partner. "Well, let's get you to a hospital first, and then we'll have a talk."

Dean's eyes widened in panic, and he started to thrash again, determined not to end up in that goddamn hospital again. "Calm down, kid, take it easy!" But he was too stubborn, and continued to fight the hand cuffs, and the pleads of the cops to stop resisting, and ended up passing out on the floor. His unconscious body lay on the floor, expression still tense and pained , the police too stunned by the whole situation to do anything but stare at each other for a few confusing seconds.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"Aren't you a little young to be getting on this bus by yourself?" The bus driver sneered at Sam, "Don't you need your mommy to hold your hand?" Some other passengers frowned at the man's lack of tact, they were all thinking the questions themselves, and rudeness, but leaned forward slightly to hear Sam's answer. Sam scowled slightly. He knew that he didn't quite look twelve, but surely he didn't look _that_ young.

An extra ten dollar note was slid through the plastic compartment that separated the driver from his passengers, and the man raised his eyebrows in shock. The twelve year old's expression was cool, but slightly annoyed, a wisdom beyond his years evident in his expression. "What the—"

Sam rolled his eyes at the man, grabbing his ticket, and striding down to an unoccupied seat, ignoring the incredulous stares he was receiving from the rest of the bus. Pulling his hood up to cover his face and inserting his earphones, he stared out the window at the passing city. Brushing his fingers along the outline of his cast under his hoodie, he winced, trying to remember any clues as to where Dean may have been taken.

His memories of his experience in the hospital were mostly blurred, but he remembered pain and being able to see his brother once. He had then been dragged away in tears, and the rest was a medicated blur, until he had been taken home by the Parkers. He had no idea where John was, and no clues whatsoever, but he guessed that the eldest Winchester was probably in jail. If that was true, Dean would know what to do. It wouldn't be the first time they'd broken one of the Winchester family out of somewhere.

Sam was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed his stop. He had tripped while exiting the bus as well, so Sam started his long walk to the hospital face down on the ground, with a banging headache.

The young hunter refused a friendly college student's helping hand, picking himself off the ground, and frowning as he realised just how bad this day could get. It was a two hour walk to the hospital where he had last seen his brother, though a maze of confusing side streets and back alleyways – Sam had decided that it was smartest to stick to routes where he wouldn't be recognised – and then he had no idea what he was going to do.

With his destination in mind, and the end goal burning into his brain, __, Sam started walking. He had just stopped in an alley way in order to take a short five minute break to look at his map again, and maybe have some food, when he saw them. Or, rather, they saw him.

"Hey, kid. What are you doing around here?" It was a male's voice that first called to Sam, the words slightly slurred, but filled with anticipation and threat. The Winchester didn't reply, just tensing slightly as he heard more footsteps approaching him. "Hey, turn around, kid!"

Sam found himself being grabbed from behind, and he was spun sharply, finding himself face to face with a huge man, and two of his buddies. There was a slight stink of alcohol, but not enough that the men would be slow and clumsy in a fight. Sam remained silent as they stared at him with a dangerous glint in their eyes, seeking the money that they all knew was present in Sam's backpack.

"I said; _what are you doing here_?"

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"What are we supposed to do now, Bobby?" John yelled, pacing around the small motel room. Caleb was out, impersonating as one of Dean's 'teachers', in an attempt to locate the sixteen year old, and the other two friends had remained in the motel, for fear of John being recognised.

John resisted the urge to pick up the laptop and throw in against the wall in frustration, his desperation to find his boys threatening to overcome all of his rational thinking. Bobby had been trying to locate Sam's file on CPS's private files online, or something like that – John hadn't been paying attention when Bobby had explained it. While the hunters had managed to hack into the less important section of the reports, information such as where Sam or Dean had been taken was classed as highly classified, and was severely restricted.

"I don't know John, but all we can do is—"

"I found him! I found Sammy!" Bobby was cut off by Caleb's shouts, as he burst into the room with a single piece of paper in his hand. "I managed to pickpocket the CPS guy I was talking to, and he had a pass card, so I got into some pretty heavily locked up filing cabinets, and found this under Sammy's name! The rest of the file was gone though, but this address was there. Though, someone did see me, and there was a pretty _sweet_ car chase for a while, but I threw them off my scent, did a couple of blocks to make sure they were gone, and got back here."

John grabbed the paper out of the other hunter's hands, and scanned it quickly. He grabbed his car keys from the table, and wrenched open the door, "This looks legit. Let's go."He was followed by the other two hunters, and within a few minutes, the truck was pulling quickly out of the motel car park, and speeding down the road.

_I'm coming, Sammy_.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Hey everyone! I hope you liked that chapter :) Oh yeah, I have no idea if CPS has 'online file things,' so just ignore that part if I'm totally wrong, and making a complete fool out of myself! Sorry…**

**Thanks so much to all the reviewers of the last chapter: **Adorereading**, **Gddssgrl, namida1407, ZombieKillerLevi, casammy, Michelle, supernaturalrenegade, BranchSuper, twomoms, RogueStorm84, KansasAngel94, monkeymuse, hyperfuzzy, helloandme, TinTin11**… You guys are amazing!**

**I'll (fingers crossed) see you guys on Saturday for the next chapter, so leave a review before you press that back button :P Thanks for all your feedback so far!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer x **


	15. Chapter 15

Consciousness came to Dean quick and fast, and he ended up sitting bolt upright in the bed. His head painful and fuzzy, Dean gasped as shoots of pain made themselves known in his chest, and he looked down to see bandages crisscrossing his torso. The teenager then went to put a hand to his pounding head, but was stopped by the handcuffs that were fixed to the bedrails.

"What the... Son of a bitch." Dean cursed in frustration as he realized that it was going to be harder than he expected to get away. A glance over at the door showed the outline of a cop standing in front of the exit to the room, presumably there to prevent Dean from getting away. The last thing Dean remembered was being slammed down on the bed, the two cops snarling in his face, while Ian and the others were practically in tears downstairs. His best guess was that he had been brought to the hospital straight afterward, for broken ribs it looked like.

Dean tried to slip his hand through the cuff quietly, quickly realising that the stupid officers had actually managed to do something right, and had tightened the handcuffs appropriately. _Damn_.

Looking around, the hunter tried to look for something that he could use to get out of the cuffs and escape. He shuddered as he spotted his clothes in a neat pile on the other side of the room; realising that he was in a freaking hospital gown for God's sake, and frowning as he thought of his lock picking wires that he kept constantly in the lining of his jeans. His luck was apparently not completely gone though, as a blessing appeared in the form of a discarded pen on his bedside table.

The clipboard that it was resting on looked pretty official, making Dean close his eyes briefly in frustration, knowing that CPS must be having a field day with his recent behaviour. Sure enough, when he strained to reach the pen with all his strength, he caught sight of the words '_mentally unstable_,' and '_institutionalised_', along with many other phrases that made his urge to punch someone grow even stronger.

He pulled the IV out swiftly and professionally, having had enough practice, and paused for just a second to take a breath and try to control his pain levels. From the feel of things, he would say that he was on some painkillers, but not the really good stuff. They probably were saving the hardcore drugs for when he'd woken up, but it was bearable enough that Dean could go without them.

Ignoring the agony that speared his ribs as he overstretched, Dean was finally able to reach his chosen object, and used his skills that Caleb had taught him on his ninth birthday to release himself from the cuffs. Smirking just a bit, the teenager slowly replaced the pen where it had been, and got silently dressed. He left the gown in a heap on the floor, before padding silently over to the window.

The window was then wrenched open with suck a small noise that didn't even make the guard turn around, and Dean gave a sigh of relief when he saw that he was only on the first floor, and that his room looked out on an alleyway that seemed empty enough.

_So long, suckers.  
><em>  
>O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o<p>

Sam regarded the three men facing him with cool, but calculating eyes. Inside though, he was starting to panic, but the twelve year old was determined not to let the guys see any hint of fear in his expression.

"What do you want?"

"Where's your mommy, kid?" One of them sneered in reply, making his friends snicker and nudge each other lightly in amusement. Sam narrowed his eyes, letting a dangerous glint enter his expression.

"She's dead," He spat back, thinking about his dagger that was concealed in his jacket. They started slightly, not expecting his reply, but soon switched back to their original cocky expressions. "Just… leave me alone, please. I'm just trying to get somewhere." Sam was getting tired now; tired of everything that had happened in the past few days. He _really_ just wanted to start his search for Dean.

"Where're you going, kiddo?" The boy winced slightly, no one called him 'kiddo', except for maybe his father, Bobby, or Dean. Sam remained silent, itching to grab his bag and run. But he was practically backed into a corner, and knew that things could get messy if he tried to make a break for it, and he really just wanted to walk away without a fight.

"Just, walk away. Please. I don't want any trouble."

The men laughed, and moved in closer. Sam groaned, praying that they would let him walk away, and then whipped out his homemade knife, extending his arm quickly so the three men were forced to take a step back, alarmed. "What the heck, kid? Is that a— a _knife_?"

When Sam didn't reply, they gave each other a questioning glance, before shrugging and stepping forwards again. Sam rolled his eyes, before putting his 'game face,' as Dean would call it, on and getting ready. The biggest one went to grab the young hunter first, but he dodged the beefy hands, swiping out with his knife. The blade caught the man across the chest, making him stagger backwards with a shout.

A thin line of red appeared almost immediately, and the thug started crying, his friends looking from him to Sam with apprehensive eyes. "C'mon, dude, it's barely a scratch," Sam said with a snort, "I've had way worse, suck it up."

This only prompted incredulous stares from all three men, which were met by stony eyes from Sam. "Walk away, please," He asked once again. Determined not to be bested by some skinny kid with a knife, the first mugger who had spoken to Sam rushed forward in an attempt to grab the knife from Sam, but was met by Sam's fist. The hunter then delivered a perfect roundhouse kick to his attacker's chest, the man then falling over his friend as he took winded steps backwards. Sam winced as he tripped, watching the man's head connect with the brick wall of the alley.

That had to hurt.

He was temporarily distracted by his unintended knocking out of the man, that he didn't even notice the last guy sneaking up on him from the side and grabbing the dagger out of his hands. He cursed loudly, the last man standing grinning in triumph. "Now, just give me your bag, and then we can all go home, okay?"

"_Gut the brat,_ for God's sake!" The man who had been cut across the chest yelled. The man with the knife went to stab the boy, but completely misjudged the distance and height of Sam, and only ended up cutting him slightly on the forehead as Sam took a bored step backwards. Seeing that he was running out of options, Sam went for the simplest one, a move that he knew Dean would be proud of. The side of the twelve year old's mouth quirked up slightly.

Suddenly, without any warned, Sam put all his strength into a hard kick that connected with the guy's balls. The man froze, his face scrunching up as tears welled up. He dropped like a stone to the ground, barely keeping in sobs as Sam reached down and picked up his knife. He wiped the smear of blood that was on it on one of their shirts, slinging his bag across his shoulders, before sauntering out of the alley.

Looking back only once, he called out, "I told you guys to just give it up!"

He kept his head down as he walked the last few blocks to the hospital, smiling slightly, ignoring the small trail of blood that had slid down his face. When he finally did reach the huge building, Sam walked straight past the main entrance, not stopping until he reached the opening of an alleyway that he knew was connected to the hospital from the blueprints that he had looked up online.

Making sure he was not being watched, Sam slipped silently into the alley, his grip tightening on the knife after last time.

He was going to find his brother at last.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"Hello, Ms. Parker, I'm here to speak with Sam." Caleb said gently to the woman that stood in the doorway, slightly confused at her red-rimmed eyes, "I'm here for CPS, just doing a random house call…" He trailed off as tears started streaming down her face, "Uh…"

"Is this a joke? Or did you not get a call from anyone? God, how are you people so damn thick?" Caleb could only raise his eyebrows, unsure if he should run or wait it out, wishing that Bobby was there with him, "Sam _ran away_ this morning. He didn't go to school, just took off after his father dropped him in, and—and his clothes are gone and—"

She then dissolved into sobs, practically throwing herself into the hunter's arms, and Caleb was forced to awkwardly close his arms around her shaking figure. Struggling to figure out what to say, he racked his brain for the right words for a few minutes, "Mrs. Parker… I'm so sorry. I, uh, left my phone at home, so no one has been able to contact me. Um, I can assure you that we will find Sam in no time."

His mind raced as he comforted the woman, mentally banging his head into a wall. While Sam may only be twelve, he was a _Winchester_, and that meant if he didn't want to be found, it would be near impossible to find him.

He excused himself shortly after Sam's foster mother had regained control of herself, hurrying back to the truck while trying to find the right words to tell John that they were too late. This was not going to be pretty.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Hey guys :) It's all slowly coming together!**

**Thanks to all the awesome fanfictioners who reviewed the last chapter! : **The Water's Child, RogueStorm84, Paulathe cat, Girafa, Michelle, KansasAngel94, Gddssgrl, casammy, monkeymuse, hyperfuzzy, Escapedslave99, TinTin11, BranchSuper, helloandme… **:D**

**I'll get the next chapter up by Wednesday, so leave a review, and I'll catch you guys then! Your feedback really is amazingly helpful in writing the coming chapters, so please take a second to tell me what you think :)**

**Thanks for reading, **

**ArmedWithMyComputer xx **


	16. Chapter 16

Sam slinked quietly into the alleyway, his eyes sharp and focused, scanning the area for any movement. A flicker of activity on the first floor made him look up quickly, but he relaxed upon seeing that it was only a blind flapping in the wind, due to a cracked open window. Then he was tackled brutally from the side.

Grunting in surprise, Sam immediately switched to fighting mode, and twisted so that he landed on top of his attacker. The guy had a hoodie on, that looked vaguely familiar, but it was hiding his face, and jeans that looked stained with blood. Not wasting any time, Sam started to push himself to his feet, but was stopped by a strong arm latching onto his leg.

He cried out, panic taking him over, and lashed out with his fists, catching his attacker in the face, and sending him stumbling backwards. The guy moaned slightly, but Sam ignored him and drew his knife out, ready to hurt the man if he showed any hostile intentions. The twelve year old was panting hard, tired from his previous fight, and not afraid to take any risks, as long as they would lead him to Dean.

He kept his knife trained on the guy as he circled around, getting closer to the open window, and planning on climbing on the dumpster to get through the window. But then the randomer that had jumped out at him was getting up and getting closer, pulling down his hood, and yelling the same word over and over. Sam, already breathing heavily from adrenaline, tried to run backwards, irrational thoughts flooding into his head as he waved the weapon around in an attempt to stop the guy from getting any closer.

"Sam. Sammy. Sam!" The words finally connected with Sam's head, and he stood there dumbly in confusion as the person ran towards him. Then the face, though beaten and bruised, registered, and suddenly the knife was dropping and Sam was running.

The brothers met in the middle, tears running both of their faces, as Dean swept Sam into a hug. "Sammy. Sammy. Sammy. Sammy." He was whispering in a broken chant, as Sam choked out his name repeatedly in the same manner. "Oh God, _Sam_…"

It was a few minutes before either of the brothers moved away, and when they did, both their eyes searched the other's face desperately. "Is that blood?" Dean switched automatically into big brother mode, and was pushing back Sam's bangs to try and get a better look at the pathetic knife wound the mugger in the alleyway had inflicted, while Sam was trying to see Dean's own injuries. "What the hell happened, Sammy? And how's that arm?"

The younger boy shrugged self-consciously, squirming out of Dean's grip as the teenager tried examined the cut that was still oozing blood, "M'fine. Nothing I couldn't handle, man. Some thugs in an alley… No big deal. What'cha do to your face?"

Then it was Dean's turn to fend a worried Sammy off, his expression smirking slightly as he remembered the incident, "Huh, this? You should see the other guys." He nodded as his brother looked bemused, "Yeah, Sam, other guys."

Half an hour later showed the two brothers sitting cross legged behind the dumpsters' Sam's head resting on his brother's shoulder, the younger boy relieved to be back with Dean. There was silence for a few minutes after Dean had finished telling Sam how he had beaten the crap out of Ian, skimming over the bits where he was held down and mercilessly kicked and punched, instead describing blow by blow the exact fight before and after it. Sam's reaction to how Dean had started out the fight had been, "Seriously, dude? A freaking _tennis racket_?"

"So, what do we do now?"

Dean shrugged, rummaging through Sam's bag for the last of the sandwiches, "I honestly have no idea… But these are stale, Sammy, and I'm fucking starving. Plus, we should probably get going before someone in there," He jerked his head towards the hospital, "notices that I'm not there. Actually, I'm surprised that no one's come looking for me yet…"

"But, how're we gonna find Dad?" Dean softened slightly at the scared tone in his brother's voice. Sam had been through so much already, surviving what sounded like a brutal mugging (though Sam hadn't gone into much detail, Dean could tell that it had been pretty intense for a twelve year old), and running away from the only taste of normal that he'd ever had, and all without any of his family by his side like they normally would have been. But now it was Dean's job to take charge, and it was a responsibility that he fully accepted.

"I'd bet that he's already out there looking for us, kiddo," A hair ruffle caused Sam to groan, and squirm away, but it had served its purpose and put a smile on Sam's face. "All we have to do is lay low and not get caught, and then we'll be golden when he finally does come and get us. Still, we'll check all the local jails, somehow, and scout out some cheap motels. If that doesn't work, we can just get a bus to Pastor Jim's or Bobby's and then get Dad to come to us."

Dean reached to tug affectionately on his amulet that he constantly wore, watching as Sam packed up the bag again with renewed hope written all over his face, before freezing and muttering curses under his breath, "Shit, shit, shit… Fuck, Sam, I don't have my amulet!"

The teenager started feeling all around his neck, panic rising in him, Sam already calmly patting his hands on the ground for any sign of the amulet. Running his hands though his hair, Dean closed his eyes briefly, and tried to remember where he had last had it. His younger brother was already clambering on the dumpster, small hands gripping the windowsill and hauling himself up, to try and peer into Dean's hospital room and see it he'd left it in there.

"S'not there, Dean… Where'd you think you left it? Did that guy Ian steal it? Are sure you sure don't have it? What are we gonna do if you can't find it? Maybe Bobby has another one, or—"

"Sam! Just… Shut up for a second, okay?" Dean snapped at his brother, immediately feeling guilty at Sam's sad look. "I'm sorry, man, just… Shit. I know where it is." Dean's memory flashed back to the last time that's he'd been in the foster home, remembered feeling the weight of the amulet fall to the floor as it snagged on the window before he was roughly jerked away.

"Where is it, Dean?"

"Its… back at the stupid foster home. Damnit. You mind making a tiny detour, Sammy? I swear I just need to run in and get it. Well, you might have to do the running in part since I threatened just about everyone in that fucking house, but you get my drift."

"Sure," Dean knew that Sam would say yes to just about anything he suggested right about now, Dean was the same, as the separation having been hard on both the brothers. "Let's go."

Both Winchesters pulling up their hoods, the brothers slipped out of the alley, and merged into the steady stream of people walking down the street, without a hitch. Feeling Sam's arm accidently brush against his, Dean looked down to see his brother unconsciously mimicking his casual strut, a smile showing shyly on his face. Dean playfully punched Sam on the shoulder, having missed the reassuring back-up of his brother, letting Sam know how much he had really missed him.

Finally, things were starting to go right.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

John punched the dashboard of the car in anger, "What do you mean _Sam ran away_?"

Caleb held up his hands in defeat, "I don't know, John, I'm just repeating what was told to me… The woman said that her husband dropped Sam into school, and then realised that he hadn't gone into the building and instead taken off when he never came home. She's in bits in there, so I'd say that neither of the suspected a thing, which means that you should be proud of Sammy."

John could only scowl in desperation at the windscreen, unable to believe the Winchester luck that was just _that_ bad. "Okay, then I guess we'll just have to find Sammy," Bobby hastily said, fearing for the welfare of his truck if John didn't calm down, "If you were a Sam, where would you go first?"

All four men lapsed into silence, each trying to put themselves in the mind of the youngest Winchester. It proved to be a difficult task. Most twelve year olds would run away to their friend's houses, or maybe a local park, but Sam was smarter than that. John had raised him to be a warrior, and to always see situations like a soldier would, each obstacle like an opponent that needed to be taken down as if in battle.

"God, I know where he went. He probably went back to that goddamn hospital, to try and retrace my, or Dean's steps… That's' what Sammy would do, and then if he couldn't find us that way, he'd check all the motels."

"Smart kid." Bobby whistled, knowing that it would be something that one of John's sons would do. "Okay, where's that hospital now?"

"How far out is it?" John barked at Caleb, throwing the map back at him. Caleb studied the crumpled map, his expression confused until he realised he had been holding it upside down.

"Uh, it's a pretty long drive. Head to the motorway, and then take it from there."

The truck was then started with a bang, the vehicle reversing quickly out the drive, before speeding down the residential road. John watched the house that Sam had stayed in disappear from sight with narrowed eyes, worrying about both of his children. Sam was his only lead, and once they had the twelve year old, all their focus would go on getting Dean back.

John just wanted his boys back. And fast.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Well, there's that chapter done… I hope you guys liked it :) There's probably only two or so chapters left in this, but I've had a blast writing it so far, and thanks so much for all your support!**

**As always, thanks to the following for reviewing the last chapter! : **KansasAngel94, Angelic Abomination, ZombieKillerLevi, Gord and V, RogueStorm84, supernaturalrenegade **(twice :P Thanks!)**, TinTin11, Brielle-W, Michelle, twomoms, casammy, hyperfuzzy, Gddssgrl, helloandme, monkeymuse, supercharmed89**… :)**

**I'll get Chapter 17 up by Saturday, so check it out then :) Thanks for all the alerts and favourites so far, and I hope you'll leave a review on the way out and let me know what you thought! **

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer x**


	17. Chapter 17

"Okay, repeat it back to me, Sammy… Which room are you going to, and where will my amulet be?" Dean quizzed his younger brother for the third time, absentmindedly chewing on a chocolate bar. The Winchester brothers were currently camped out in a tree across the road from Dean's foster home, with a bag-pack full of candy that they had bought, and their eyes on the prize.

"Third floor, third door on the left. It should be on the floor beside the window, or somewhere around the bunk-bed on the left. Don't talk to anyone, and keep my head down. If anyone realises that I'm not supposed to be there, I should run… _Dean_, I got this."

"Yeah, well, you know our luck. Just be quick, and don't hesitate to bolt if you think that someone's onto you." Sam gave Dean a small smile, before grabbing the last bit of the chocolate bar from his brother's hand, and jumping down from the tree. The twelve year old's landing was smooth and unnoticed by the children playing in the front yard. Sam glanced one last time up into the foliage that concealed Dean, received a silent nod, and walked inconspicuously across the road.

With his head bowed low, Sam shuffled up the driveway, and slipped inside the open door. Dean watched him disappear into the house that he had come to hate so much in such a short space of time, regretting that they'd ever come back in the first place. He had suggested just leaving the amulet several times to Sam on their walk there, but each time he had confessed his uneasy feelings to his brother, Sam had protested and insisted that they keep going.

Dean wrapped an arm around his throbbing ribs, leaning his head back against the tree trunk. It had been painful climbing up the tall oak tree, and they'd had to hurry while the kids playing in the front garden of the foster house had run inside, but it was a good hiding place. Not to mention, he had a good view of all the main exits in the house, and would be able to see quickly if something went wrong, and Sam ended up running out. Still, Dean had insisted that Sam take his knife and tuck it into his jacket sleeve, so he'd be prepared.

Inside the house, Sam was amazed at the pure volume of people milling around, all going in different directions. He froze for a second, getting shoved to one side by a particularly rough kid in a hurry and smushed into the wall by a crying teenage girl, before finally making it to the stairs.

He moved quickly up the steps, eyes darting around nervously before he reached the third floor. The door was decorated with a skull and crossbones, making Sam take a deep breath as he realised that this was Dean's room, before glancing around to see if anyone had noticed him yet. It seemed that the third floor was somehow out of bounds for all kids his age though, as all the children that Sam had seen seemed to have disappeared when he made it to the third floor.

He could hear the soft hum of voices from inside the room, but Sam decided to burst in uninvited anyway, wanting to get back to his brother. Not bothering to knock, Sam calmly opened the door and entered the room with an expressionless face, and cold eyes.

His entrance was clearly a complete surprise, as all three teenagers in the room stopped their conversation abruptly, and turned to stare at the intruder. Sam smirked slightly as he took in the icepacks arranged all over their bodies, and the black eyes and split lips. One boy in particular looked like he had gotten the worse beating as his face was even more bruised and bloody than Dean's, and Sam narrowed his eyes, realising that the teenager must be Ian.

"Oh, _hell _no. You another new kid?" Sam didn't respond, his eyes flickering around the room, trying to find Dean's amulet, "Look, runt, I dunno what you were told, but you're not sleeping in this room. I don't share rooms with ten year olds."

The guy that Sam assumed to be Ian spoke up, a cocky expression on his face as he glared at Sam. Sam turned his cold stare on him, "I'm twelve, and I don't need any of your bullshit. So, shut up." But then he noticed what was hanging from around Ian's neck, and his vision turned red with rage.

The three teenagers stood up in anger at Sam's words, all in need of an ego boost, and confidant that they could handle a stupid little shit of a kid. Matthew took a menacing step towards Sam, towering over the boy, but was unnerved as the kid sidestepped him calmly, and turned to Ian. "Look, kid, get out of here if you want your face to stay like that. You should see that last guy that messed with us." Cody bluffed bravely, not liking the glint that had appeared in Sam's eyes, but trying to hide his fear.

"Give me that amulet. Now."

"No way, you little shit. Get the fuck out of here, before I kick your ass. This necklace thing is mine, and there's no way that I'm giving it to you." Ian sneered at the younger boy, waving the amulet in Sam's face for emphasis.

"That belongs to my brother, and he wants it back." The teenagers froze at Sam's next words. Sam smiled dangerously, before taking another step forward, sensing their wariness at the tiniest mention of Dean. "Yeah, that's right. Dean's my brother, and he's_ pissed_. You're lucky he sent me, and didn't come and take his amulet back himself. Now, hand it over."

"You're lying, kid. We saw them carry Dean out a few hours ago, and there is no way that he'd be able to get to you. I don't know how you know about that fucker Dean, but you'd better get out of here now, before we really hurt you."

Sam's fist moved so fast that Ian didn't see the punch coming until he was sent stumbling back. He yelled in surprise, dropping the amulet in pain, looking up to the youngest Winchester with undisguised fear in his eyes. Sam picked the amulet up, looking at the other two teenagers with a bloodthirsty grin on his face, eager to do a 'Dean,' and beat the shit out of the boys.

"Now do you believe Dean's my brother?" Sam taunted the three older boys, "You see, I'm pretty mad about how you idiots beat him up, like the cowards you are, seven against one… So, I think it's time that you see just how alike me and Dean are." Sam cracked his knuckles loudly, and fixed the teenagers with a deadly stare, much like the one that Dean had given them a few hours previously.

There was a second of silence, before all three teenagers bolted. Matthew, Cody, and Ian ran out of the room so fast that they all got stuck in the doorway, whimpering in fear until they could finally burst though into the hallway, sprinting down the stairs.

Tightening his grip on the amulet, Sam opened the window, and slipped out, just as the father of the house started thudding up the stairs after seeing the sixteen year olds come barrelling into the sitting room, screaming about how, "… _That fucker Dean's little brother's gonna kill us! Help_!" But, by the time he'd made it up the three flights of stairs, the bedroom was empty, curtains flapping in the window, the wind making the room slightly cold.

Dean slipped agilely out of the tree as he saw Sam come running around the corner of the house, and the two brothers put the house in the distance, vowing never to return. Dean slipped the amulet over his head, feeling the familiar weight return, giving Sam a proud smile, "Good one, kiddo. Let's get out of here…"

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"Wait… _What_?" Caleb stared at the hospital receptionist, his eyes searching her confusion ones.

"You said you were here looking for the missing kid, right? Well, Dean escaped his room over an hour ago, somehow got out of handcuffs, and the police are looking for him right now. Is that not the missing child you were looking for?"

Running a weary hand through his hair, Caleb shook his head slowly. He had come in looking for Sam, and instead just found out that Dean had been admitted to the hospital, in handcuffs with a cop stationed outside his door, and had somehow managed to escape. "No, ma'am, I was talking about a different boy," He held up a picture of Sam, and then his fake CPS identity card, "You haven't seen this one, have you?"

She apologised, feeling slightly guilty as the man's face seemed to grow wearier at her reply. "What can you tell me about Dean then? What were his injuries? I'm, uh, working on the same case, so I need to know everything that you can tell me…"

"Well, he was brought in unconscious, badly beaten, with a few broken ribs. He ran away before anyone realised he had regained consciousness, and so was not present to receive the pain relief that we were about to provide him with. I—That's all his file says. No last name or anything. Wait, he was brought in from the foster home about five blocks from here, if that helps…"

Caleb's hope returned. Maybe John wouldn't have a reason to kill him after all. "I'm gonna need the address of that foster home, ma'am, if you don't mind… Thank you for all your help."

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Well, I hope that was okay for you guys :) *Sigh* There's only one chapter left now, and then maybe an epilogue… I can't believe that this is nearly finished! **

**Thank you guys so much for the amazing response for the last chapter, your reviews make me so excited! :** Twomoms, d767468, lor4eto, Gddssgrl, irishgirl9, moira4eku **(multiple times for other chapters as well!)**, casammy, TinTin11, Michelle, fallenwriter14, Girafa, .jem., Angelic Abomination, Gord and V, helloandme, BranchSuper, Brielle-W, KansasAngel94, RogueStorm84, supercharmed89, monkeymuse, ZombieKillerLevi, supernaturalrenegade**… :D**

**The (last) chapter will be up by Wednesday, maybe even a little earlier 'cause my exams start on Wednesday, so leave a review and I'll see you then! Thanks so much for all the feedback again… It really helps me to write ;)**

**Thanks for reading,**

**ArmedWithMyComputer xx**


	18. Chapter 18

The sun was shining as the two brothers walked through the crowds, heading for the nearest library. They were only about three blocks away from the foster home, but already Sam had convinced Dean to buy him an ice-cream, and was smiling as he held the ice-cream with his good hand. Dean smirked slightly as he looked down to a content Sammy who was trying to lick away the ice-cream that he had somehow managed to get all over his face. _Some things never change…_

"So, the plan now is to check out all the local motels on the library computers, and then check them all out?" Sam asked, offering Dean a lick of his ice-cream. Dean nodded; paying more attention to the group of teenage girls that had just crossed the road and were walking in front of him. "Dean!"

"Wh— Yeah, Sammy. That's Plan A and, uh, we don't have a Plan B yet, so this had better work." They had only gone a couple more steps before the older boy frowned, glancing discreetly behind him, and looking slightly panicked. For Dean, his 'slightly panicked' look looked like his normal everyday expression, cool and a bit annoyed, but Sam knew how to read his brother by now. "Hey, Sam… Have you noticed that those three guys have been following us for the past two blocks? Ever since we came out of that shop to get you your ice-cream?"

Sam tensed, pretending to scratch his head absentmindedly to get a better look, "Crap. What're we gonna do, Dean?"

His brother closed his eyes briefly, almost positive that their pursuers were undercover cops. He knew that if they got caught, there was almost no chance of him seeing Sammy ever again. Dean would probably be locked up in some kind of institution for his violent and irrational behaviour, and Sam… Well, Dean had no idea what would happen to his little brother, but he wasn't about to find out.

"On the count of three, we run. Got it?" Sam nodded in understanding, his attention completely focused on his older brother, ready to make a run for it. "One, two… Three."

Almost before the words were out of the teenager's mouth, Sam had dropped his ice-cream without a second thought, and both brothers were sprinting down the street. The cops behind them were stunned for a second at how much the two boys moved in sync, but were quickly moving swiftly after them. "Faster, Sam!" Dean yelled as he burst through the group of hot girls he had been staring at before, shouting a quick apology as they screamed in fear. Sam was right on his heels, dodging the people in an attempt to keep up with the fast-paced Dean.

"Hey, kids, _stop_!" Both brothers ignored the shouts that came from behind them, weaving in and out of the crowds to try and lose the police officers. Glancing backwards, Dean cursed colourfully, seeing that the men were catching up to them, and that they seemed to be calling for backup. His ribs were on fire, but he pushed the pain down, knowing that it would hurt like a _bitch_ later, but terrified of what the consequences would be if they were caught.

"We're gonna hav'ta… double back, S-Sammy…" Dean panted, accidently knocking a kid his own age to the ground as the boy didn't throw himself out of the way fast enough. "Sorry, man!"

Spying a particularly large gathering in the small park that opened up onto the street in front of him, Dean yelled his plan out to Sam, not even looking to see if his brother had heard him. Sam would get the drift when Dean put it into action. Suddenly veering left, the young hunter pushed Sam in front of him as he sprinted into the huge crowd, and weaved through the small sea of people until the two brothers were at the middle of the circle of bodies. A random guy was throwing fire around, and he winked at the boys as they burst into the middle of the circle, before melting back into the crowd.

Dean then forced Sam's head down, and hissed for him to, "_Get down_," before dropping to his knees beside his brother. Ignoring the confused stares they were getting, Sam and Dean started crawling towards the edge of the crowd, hearing the sound of the cops' voices coming from above them. As the police fought to reach the centre of the cluster of people, the boys creeped out of it on their hands and knees, grinning as they got to an opening.

People stared scattering as the police attempted to break up the crowd to try and find the brothers, but the sea of people milling around provided as the perfect chance to ditch the cops. The boys stood quickly, ducking their heads, and going along with the flow. Dean, with on hand firmly clamed around Sam's un-casted arm, pulled his brother gently along, getting out of the park and joining a group of tourists as they ambled down the street in the opposite direction that the young hunters had been going.

Once they were sure that no one was following them, Sam and Dean slipped away from the group, and paused to take a short break. Dean's arm was wrapped securely around his torso as he tried to shut out the pain that had come from running with damaged ribs, and Sam was cradling his broken arm close to his side, the limb throbbing after having been used to push various strangers out of his way.

They had now completely retraced their steps, ending up just around the corner from the foster home. "Man, I hate cops," Dean muttered as he scowled, scuffing at the ground with a worn sneaker. "C'mon lets go."

There was an average amount traffic on the relatively busy road, but the sound of a truck backfiring made Sam freeze. His head shot up as he recognised the sound of the vehicle, and he tugged on Dean's hoodie as his brother started to walk away. "Dean… _Dean_." The sixteen year old turned around, confused at Sam's tone, but his face paled when he saw what Sam's eyes were fixated on.

"It fucking can't be..."

Inside the truck, John was scanning the right side of the street with eagle sharp eyes, while Bobby drove, and Caleb looked out the other side. They were nearing the foster home now, and the oldest Winchester could only pray that his boys had returned there. If they weren't there… He had no idea where he would find them.

"_STOP THE TRUCK!_" John suddenly yelled, seeing two familiar looking shapes on the side of the street. His eyes were blurring with tears as he jumped out of the truck as it screeched to a halt, all his attention fixating on the two boys. He was stumbling as he ran straight across the road at Sam and Dean, getting several indignant and annoyed beeps from other cars, but he didn't care.

Sam watched his father run towards him, his body trembling with relief, feeling numb with gladness. Dean was gripping his arm tightly, Caleb and Bobby abandoning the truck as well, but then Sam couldn't think anymore, because all he knew was that his father was there, and he was hugging him like he would never let go.

Dean was pulled alongside Sam into a bone-crushing embrace by his father, and all he could do was mutter broken sentences, his knees growing weak as the situation dawned on him. They were together again. John was holding both of his sons securely; all three Winchesters huddled in the middle of the street. Sam was crying, tears slipping out from beneath tightly closed lids. Dean was whispering thankful curses, his one arm around John, and the other holding Sam close to him.

John could only repeat the same two words over and over again, "Sammy. Dean. _Sammy. Dean_." For almost five minutes, all three Winchesters were wrapped in each other's embraces, passer-by-ers stopping to '_Aww,_' at the closeness of the family. Bobby and Caleb stood to one side, letting John have his moment with the boys.

The truck sat abandoned in the middle of the busy road, all the doors flung wide open, and bits of paper fluttering out, but Bobby didn't care. The boys were found and safe, and nothing else mattered to them.

But apparently that tiny little detail was important to the other drivers on the road, and several were getting out of their cars with angry expressions on their faces. "Move your fucking truck!" One bold civilian yelled out, his fat face crinkling up into a frown. In the guy's defence, the truck was blocking a whole lane of traffic, and causing a diversion as people tried to swerve around it, but failed.

"Why don't you make me, you _bastard_!" Caleb shouted back, giving the man the finger, and reaching back to grab the .45 that he had tucked in the small of his back. The hot-tempered hunter took a threatening step towards the guy, his face already twisting up into a dangerous smile, but was stopped by Bobby. The older hunter yanked Caleb back, telling him to cool it. The word 'idjit,' was also thrown into the sentence, making Caleb snort in laughter, and immediately forget the other man, turning back to the Winchesters.

"I'm calling the police!" The guy declared boldly, relieved that Caleb had been stopped in his tracks. Unluckily for the Winchesters, the two cops who were still searching for Sam and Dean heard the commotion, and marched onto the street where the drama was taking place, and immediately identified the two boys.

"That's them," One of the cops yelled, his loud voice making Dean flinch at the familiarly and look up. "That's those kids! Right there."

"Shit," Dean cursed, alerting his father to the presence of the two cops. In true hunter style, the hug was broken up, and all five hunters were running towards the empty truck the second the police started moving towards them. People jumped backwards as the truck was quickly started up, Caleb at the wheel and Bobby sitting next to him.

Sam and Dean were smushed up against the window with John, Sam still shaking and Dean unable to speak. Caleb sent the truck roaring down the street, swerving around moving cars to try and lose the cops who were sprinting after the vehicle. The hunter, skilled in car chases and a cocky grin on his face, managed to lose the three back-up cars that had been called with fifteen minutes. "Now,_ that's_ what I call a family reunion!"

Back at the motel, John scrutinized his boys' injuries, pushing back Sam's bangs to get a look at the small cut, and quizzing him about his casted arm. Dean was also subjected to this, letting his protective father prod at his ribs, and peer at his black eye and split lip, gratefully taking the painkillers that were thrust upon him. The teenager burst out laughing as he caught sight of Sam's cast, seeing the various logos of all his favourite bands, green eyes full of amused disbelief as he stared at his younger brother, "I _knew_ I'd rub off on you if I tried for long enough, Sammy!"

A few large pizzas were ordered, and stories were told over the hot food, Dean sitting propped up against the headboard of the bed, with Sam curled up beside him. Several times during the recounting of tales, one of the Winchesters would angrily clench their fists, cursing the "son of a bitch who _dared_ to do that!" but then the speaker would continue, and the room would fall into silence again.

The scene melted on into the night, with Dean and Caleb eating the majority of the pizzas, and the three adults relaxing with a cold beer. Dean was allowed a few sips of one, due to the fact that he had _done good_, in John's opinion, and Sam had even been tossed a bottle of warm-ish coke from one of the duffel bags. It really was one of the best nights, in Sam's opinion.

Watching Sam doze off on his brother's shoulder, John let out a sigh of relief. His boys were safe, and they were with him. He could deal with just about everything else, as long as he knew where the boys were. It took a lot more than some persistent CPS bastards and a bit of amazingly bad luck to split up the family of hunters.

They were the Winchesters, after all.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o

**Wow. I think that's it. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter :) :** Angelic Abomination, supercharmed89, Schizophrenic Dreamer, KansasAngel94, Michelle, TinTin11, irishgirl9, Sparkiebunny, supernaturalrenegade, d767468, RougueStorm84, Gord and V, BranchSuper, AlwaysTardy, twomoms, Gddssgrl, TridentBearer, helloandme, fallenwriter14**… :D**

**I honestly never thought that I'd actually make it to the last chapter, so thanks so much to everyone :) Big thanks also to all those who put this story on their alerts and favourites, but never reviewed :) You guys are all awesome too! **

**I'd love to know what everyone thought of that last chapter (I really hope I didn't screw it up too badly!), and your thoughts on the story overall. Thanks again for all the feedback that I've received over the course of this story. It's actually so amazing! ****I'll **_**defiantly**_** be writing more Supernatural fics in the future, so keep an eye out if you liked this one ;)**

**Last chance to review :)**

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**ArmedWithMyComputer xxx**


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